I'm not real Am I?
by lady emebalia
Summary: Derek is not real. He's just a pretty form Stiles came up with. At least that's what Stiles keeps telling himself.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** _This story goes deep into topics like consent, free will, and power imbalance. There won't be rape but there will be heavy dub-con_

* * *

The plan had been simple. Go into werewolf no-no land, find the feral betas, summon an alpha to roar them into submission, have a chat with the boy about why this was suddenly no-no land for werewolves, take care of that and then be home for dinner with a very grateful pack.

Stiles knew the plan had its flaws. For one he needed the shade he wanted to summon to be a real enough alpha werewolf to actually get through to the ferals but at the same time not so real that it would get affected by whatever it was that made werewolves go feral around here.

He would have liked to summon it right when he'd gotten out of the car but it was quite a hike and Stiles wasn't sure where exactly the werewolves were and it would be just his luck that he couldn't hold the shade any longer the second he found the betas.

So Stiles hiked through the woods alone, stumbling over roots hidden under dead leaves, or over roots in plain view but there wasn't anybody there to laugh over his ungraceful flailing.

Cursing under his breath he made his way to the remote area the local wolf pack liked to use for their full moon wolfy stuff.

When two of her wolves went missing around here Miranda, the alpha, had gone to investigate but she was smart enough to run in the other direction when she noticed something around here was very, very wrong.

There were some strong ley lines around here, Stiles felt them tingling at his fingertips, but that alone wasn't what was going on here. The lines had been here long before the wolves that had lived in this territory for centuries now. Without any feral incidents.

Whatever it was, it was new. Most likely related to the books Stiles had found under Ben's porn stash. But he would have a talk with the boy about that, the black magic books not the porn, once he could communicate with more than just animalistic grunts again. On the other hand, he was a teenager, animalistic grunts were basically his native language.

Stiles stopped to check his location on his phone but GPS was sketchy at best out here and he had only a general idea where he was heading anyway. He had a map and a compass with him as well but that wasn't really helpful either. Miranda had marked the area on the map but she could only tell where she'd felt that something was off and where their usual gathering spot was.

"Werewolves and their fucking love for the deep woods," Stiles muttered. There wasn't even a real path to follow.

Things went south when Stiles found the missing betas much earlier than he'd anticipated. Or rather, they found him.

Something came crashing through the under bushes and out of reflex Stiles started to summon his shade. Without the alpha, he barely stood a chance against two feral werewolves.

The wolf, Ben, jumped over the last bush, claws raised to attack, and Stiles only barely managed to duck out of the way. Ben landed with a roar and was on Stiles the next second.

It wasn't the first time that Stiles had been pinned to the ground by a snarling werewolf and it was still no fun. The impact knocked the wind out of him and for a second he wasn't sure which way was up and which was down.

"Son of a …" Stiles gasped and caught the claw aiming for his face by the wrist with both hands. The wolf was stronger than him, of course he was, but Stiles hadn't been running with wolves for over a decade now and had not picked up a thing or two.

Deaton had called him a spark. Stiles was still not sure what that meant. Deaton had been convinced that he would be the pack's next emissary and had tried to train him for that but turned out, neutrality didn't sit well with Stiles. An emissary had to keep the balance and Stiles could not let bad things happen to his pack just to keep the balance.

So he didn't become Scott's emissary. But he'd learned a few magic tricks on the way.

For example the electric shock he now sent through the wrist and up the arm of the werewolf sitting on his chest. It wasn't enough to knock him out or to force him to shift back but it was enough to make him yelp in a very doglike way and to jump off Stiles.

Stiles didn't stay to find out how much damage he had actually inflicted and scrambled to his feet. He couldn't outrun a werewolf, he knew that, and the mother should be around here somewhere too, but he didn't need to outrun them, he just needed to get away from them long enough to summon his superweapon.

Suddenly the second werewolf was in front of him. Anne, Ben's mother.

It was too late to change direction so he just picked up speed and with another scream, he ducked under her claws and rammed his shoulder into her ribs. Fueled with a little magic which knocked her into the next tree. It would gain him a few seconds.

Stiles kept running for a moment longer, not sure if he dared to stop and do the summoning, but then his foot got caught in a rabbit hole and he crashed.

 _That answers that question_ , Stiles thought and spit out dry leaves. He didn't waste time with turning around to see where the wolves were, he just closed his eyes and reached for that place in his mind where the shades were. That wasn't exactly how it worked, it was more of a way to visualize what he was trying to do but as long as it worked, Stiles didn't question it. Too much.

Leaves crunched under heavy boots but that got lost rather quickly in the noises of the feral betas. They were coming for him and they would kill him when they got the chance but Stiles wasn't worried any longer.

Calmly he turned around.

And was looking right at the ass of his shade.

Stiles hadn't been more specific than _alpha werewolf_ when he'd given this shade form but somehow he'd expected it to look like Scott. His alpha and best friend, true alpha and all that. When Stiles thought of an alpha, Scott was the first thing coming to mind.

However, the werewolf standing there, in jeans and a wife beater, both items just a little too tight and hugging its muscled frame quite nicely, did not look like Scott. Not that Stiles minded, not at all.

When the feral betas came crashing through the woods, the alpha went into a low fighting stance, claws and fangs out, and Stiles couldn't help but notice what that move did to the shade's ass. C'mon, it was basically in his face.

Stiles hadn't given his shade any specifics but like every shade he'd ever summoned, its first priority was to keep Stiles safe. So when Ben came charging for him, the shade plucked him out of the air with a roar and smashed him to the ground.

Seeing her son lying under an alpha with claws pricking his throat, Anne roared and jumped on the shade.

There was a moment of struggle and Stiles hurried to crab-walk out of the danger zone but then the shade threw her into a tree. Anne landed on all fours, growling and snarling at the alpha coming for her, but then the alpha threw his head back and roared.

Stiles wasn't a werewolf but he had been living in a pack for years now and even he was affected by the demand for submission. But the alpha's focus was not on him.

Mother and son fought it for a moment, out of stubbornness alone, Stiles was sure, but then they lowered their heads in submission. When they looked up again, their faces were human and their eyes were not glowing any longer.

"What happened?" Anne asked. She stood up with a confused look around before her eyes settled on the shade standing in front of her.

"He won't answer." Stiles had picked himself up as well and with one flick of his wrist, the shade evaporated in shadows.

"Wow." The boy made and Stiles had to admit it looked cool. It looked even cooler when the shade looked like Batman for example. Not that he had summoned Batman to beat up some thugs for him. Maybe once. Or twice. And then there had been this one time …

Stiles shook his head to get his thoughts back on track.

"Yeah." Stiles gave him a hard look. "Heard you were dabbling in magic as well. Didn't turn out so well, did it?"

At least the boy had the decency to look guilty and when Stiles demanded to know exactly what he'd done, he told him. Ben probably knew that lying was pointless with his mother standing right next to him with a very disappointed expression on her face and for sure a close ear to his heart-beat.

Once he knew what he needed to know, Stiles hurried to send them out of dodge. He didn't know if they would get affected again and if so how long it would take to turn them feral again so he better got them out of here as quickly as possible.

"You sure you want to do this alone?" Anne asked. She had one arm over her son's shoulder who was crying by now.

"You can't stay here." Stiles made a shooing motion and was glad when she nodded and then turned to leave. They both were in dire need of a shower and a hot meal and maybe some therapy but they would live.

A hunter's solution to the problem would have been wolfsbane bullets. And a hunter might have killed the rest of the pack as well just on principle alone. There was a reason that when a pack had a problem that required a hunter they called Stiles instead.

Before they had left, Ben had pointed him in the direction of a remote cabin where he'd done the ritual.

It took Stiles half the night to untangle the magical mass, and he almost burned down the cabin by accident, but then the feeling of wrong vanished and Stiles could breathe easier.

Exhausted he crawled into the small bed, he didn't care who had been sleeping here before him, and he only woke when the sun was already high in the sky.

He still felt groggy and his muscles were stiff and sore, from the hiking and running from feral werewolves but also from the magical labor. The latter never looked like much from the outside but it was the part that always took a toll on him.

Stiles had a late breakfast consisting of granola bars and bottled water and while he was chewing, his mind started to wander.

Usually, when he summoned a shade, he put some thought into what he wanted it to look like and what kind of abilities he wanted it to have. The more complex a shade was, the harder it was to call it into existence and Stiles could only hold it for a short time.

However, he hadn't put any thought into the shade he'd summoned yesterday. Alpha werewolf was pretty self-explaining and somehow he had been convinced that it would just look like Scott. And c'mon, he'd known him since kindergarten, he didn't have to think about him to conjure up that crooked jaw.

The shade had not looked like Scott. Not at all.

Stiles was pretty sure that it hadn't looked like anybody he knew for which he was glad because that would have been weird.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip before he closed his eyes for a moment and reached into that shady place in his mind. Deaton had just looked pained when Stiles had called it that for the first time and after that it kind of stuck.

When he opened his eyes again, the shade was standing in the middle of the cabin.

Yesterday Stiles had mostly seen its back, mainly that ass in the tight jeans and those shoulder muscles working under smooth skin, but now it was facing him.

The chest muscles went along with the ones on its back, the wife beater highlighting them more than they were concealing anything. A sharp jawline under at least a week's worth of scruff, slim nose leading up to some impressive eyebrows. The eyes under those brows looked straight ahead, focused on nothing.

It wasn't blinking, or breathing for that matter, Stiles hadn't put that much effort into it, but everything else looked pretty real.

"Did you come out of the porn part of my brain?" Stiles circled his shade which just stood there, unmoving. "Because damn."

He studied its butt for a second longer before he dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.

Then Stiles hurried to pack his things, there was a pack waiting for the good news that the woods were safe again.


	2. Chapter 2

The hike back to his car felt longer than the one in the other direction yesterday but this time Stiles wasn't fueled by adrenaline, wasn't expecting a feral werewolf to jump him any second. This was just a boring walk through the woods.

When he reached his jeep he took a moment to call Scott just to let him know that the job was done, that he was alive and that there was no need to send the cavalry. Scott was always so worried.

The first years Stiles had done this with Peter at his side but Scott had been even more worried then. But then Peter had gotten bored doing the good thing and had gone off to do whatever it was he was doing when nobody was looking. Stiles still had him on speed dial, and the werewolf always picked up when he called, but when it came down to it, Stiles was alone without his pack and far from his territory. Of course, Scott was worried.

Stiles promised to be back in Beacon Hills in time for Kira's birthday and then he ended the call. They would Skype once Stiles had the time.

First, he needed to get back to Miranda and her pack. Make sure that the two wolves were safely back with the others.

They were and after a night in the middle of a pack pile, they felt better and Anne was the first to embrace Stiles in a fierce hug.

"Thank you." She breathed into the hollow of his neck.

There were more _thank yous_ and there would be a barbecue later, when werewolves had something to celebrate there was meat, but first Stiles had a little chat with Miranda in the privacy of her office.

She had feared that two of her wolves were lost, that Stiles didn't have another choice but to kill them, that much was obvious, so when she pledged loyalty to Stiles and his pack, she meant it. If he or Scott asked for help, Miranda would be there for them.

"Any suggestions on how to deal with Ben?" Miranda asked. Stiles had told her in detail what had happened and he had assured her that the problem was solved.

"He's a teenager." Stiles shrugged and refused to think about the stuff he had gotten into at that age. "He's rebellious and thinks that he knows better. Black magic is dangerous and I think he gets that now. I doubt he'll touch that stuff again but I'll take his books if that's okay with you."

Miranda nodded to that.

"However, what he did was impressive." Stiles leaned back in his chair. "It went horribly wrong but it was impressive. That's nothing you do by accident by reading out some Latin."

"You think he has real talent?" Miranda mimicked his position, relaxed, it had been some stressful days, but thinking.

"Usually werewolves are not prone to this kind of magic," Stiles said but he was pretty sure that Miranda already knew that. Werewolves were magical creatures, they already had their fair share of supernatural power, it was rare for one of them to manage more than a little party trick. But Ben had shown witch level with his failed spell.

"It might just have been a coincidence," Stiles admitted. "The ley lines, right phase of the moon, maybe it has been a right time, right place kind of thing."

"But?" Miranda asked, open to what Stiles had to say. He had proven that he knew what he was talking about, he guessed.

"I know some witches, the good kind," Stiles hurried to add the last part. "I'd like them to have a look at Ben. If he does have magic this strong in him, he's an accident bound to happen. Hell, it did just happen." Stiles made a gesture to indicate the mess he'd dealt with just yesterday.

Miranda thought about it.

"I don't like strangers interfering with my pack," She stated but her position stayed relaxed.

Stiles didn't point out that he also was a stranger interfering with her pack. But by now he had a reputation. He didn't know how Miranda had heard of him but most likely it had been somebody he had helped before. Or somebody who knew somebody Stiles had helped.

"I vouch for them," Stiles said. He noticed the little tilt of her head, indicating that she was listening to his heartbeat, but he was telling the truth here and he wanted her to know that. "Their coven had a little problem a while back. We have worked together a few times since then." He gave her a moment to interpret the signals she was getting from him. "They won't take Ben away or try to turn him on you but if he's really as potent as it looks like at the moment, he needs guidance."

"Can't you …?" She asked the question Stiles had known would come up. Him knew she, she trusted him.

"No." Stiles shook his head. "My magic is different. Most of the time I run on instinct and I'm not exactly good at following instructions. The guy who taught me has still nightmares from my improvised spells."

Deaton had tried to explain the flow of energy and the right way to manipulate it to him and it did make sense, in an academic kind of way, but when it came down to the practical side, Stiles tend to improvise. When a werewolf is chewing on your butt, you don't care about proper intonation, you react.

It wasn't the way it should be done and Stiles didn't even want to think about the consequences if things went south for real, that was the part that had Deaton driven into early retirement. Even if he wanted to teach his way to somebody, he didn't even know where to begin.

He must be translating his thoughts in his posture and scent because she just accepted his decision with a nod.

"I'll think about it," Miranda said and stood, indicating that the conversation as over.

"Do you want me to talk to Ben?" Stiles stood as well. More stiffly than her but he had been hiking and fighting all day yesterday and he was still tired from the mental labor. He was just glad that she had offered a bed for the night so he didn't have to look for a motel.

"I'll talk to him later," Miranda declined his offer.

They joined the rest of the pack which was out in the backyard. It was loud and noisy, the kids, and some of the adults, playing frisbee, the grill was almost ready and there was a large table full with salads, bread, dips and lots of other stuff that made Stiles' mouth water. Except for some granola bars he hadn't eaten much since breakfast yesterday morning.

Stiles was the hero of the day so once he came out of the house to join the others the attention was on him.

There were questions about what had actually happened and if the woods were safe again but Stiles managed to just give them the cliff-notes without painting Ben as the bad guy and then he stirred the conversation to other topics.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles noticed Anne and Ben who were sitting a bit at the side but listening nevertheless and when Anne caught his glance she gave him a grateful smile. They had been through enough, there was no need to tell their pack in detail how they had tried to kill Stiles.

Of course, his magic came up. Stiles' default way to deal with a threat was to summon a shade and let it deal with the threat. It were always the kids who dared to ask him to summon one but the adults were just as keen on seeing that little trick.

Stiles didn't summon the alpha werewolf he had used yesterday, he didn't want to traumatize Ben and Anne even more so he went for Elsa, kids loved her and it never failed to make them sing along with her. And she could do some cool magic as well. Her snowballs were barely more than illusion but one could feel the cold and soon they had a snowball fight in the summer.

However, the last few days were stressful and Stiles turned in rather early. He kept his window open and he fell asleep to the comforting sound of the pack still sitting outside.

Stiles had breakfast with the pack but after that, he said goodbye and then he was on the road again. He had promised to be back in Beacon Hills for Kira's birthday so that was where he was heading.

However, he didn't push it and found a motel in the late afternoon. When he'd been on the road with Peter they had taken two queens, Winchester style Stiles had joked and Peter had rolled his eyes, and somehow that still stuck.

Stiles spread his things on the second bed and set up his laptop. Scott was waiting for more than a short message and when his face came up on the screen, he narrowed his eyes on Stiles.

"I'm fine," Stiles assured him, knowing that Scott was trying to pick up on his heart-beat. And he still tried to sniff him and got all flustered when Stiles pointed out that that didn't work via camera.

"Just a few scratches and bruises," Stiles added just to put him at ease. He had woken up stiff but staying with a werewolf pack had the advantage that he didn't have to suffer through the pain. Everybody had tried to take his pain with a touch here and there. Werewolves were not as sneaky as they liked to think but Stiles hadn't called them out on it and had just enjoyed the supernatural pain drain.

They talked for over an hour. Stiles told Scott in detail how the job had gone down and that they would have an ally in Miranda. On the other side, Scott updated him on what was going on in Beacon Hills. For once everything was quiet, there had only been an omega passing through but he had kept his head down and was gone before they had even noticed him.

"I should have had a look at him," Scott said with a sigh and Stiles knew exactly what he was thinking. An omega's chances of surviving were low, sooner or later they went feral and a pack or hunter had to kill them. This one hadn't caused any trouble so it might not have been too late for him.

"Everybody knows that Beacon Hills is open for all kinds of supernatural beings," Stiles reminded him. After the Nemeton had woken again, it was doing its best to become a mighty tree once again and Scott made sure that the scion that had sprouted out of the trunk was safe. Even if he didn't really like it. "If he had wanted help, he knew that he just had to ask."

"Yeah." Scott shook his head. "But still."

"You can't save everybody," Stiles reminded him and then he stirred the conversation to less heavy topics. Like what movies they wanted to watch once Stiles was back in Beacon Hills.

"How long are you going to stay?" Scott asked.

"Not sure yet."

If Scott had his way, Stiles would never leave Beacon Hills ever again and he had a strong ally in Stiles' dad but that wasn't what Stiles wanted to do with his life. For a while, he'd thought that he would go into law enforcement like his dad but then a pack had contacted Peter. Turned out that Peter had a reputation as a problem solver, for the right price, and for some reason he had taken Stiles with him. The rest was history.

By now Stiles had a reputation himself and not just for the right price. He took the money, he wasn't stupid and old packs had more money than they could ever spend, but he was more interested in making connections. He had a lot of people who owed him one way or the other.

They ended the call and when Stiles checked the time he found that it was past midnight. He got ready for bed and slipped under the covers.

Then he summoned a shade. Since the incident with the Nogitsune, Stiles didn't like to sleep alone. When he'd been with Peter it hadn't been a problem and last night he had a whole pack watching over him but now he was alone in his motel room. He felt better when he knew that somebody was watching him. He didn't know if the shade even lasted when he fell asleep but he felt better with Batman sitting on the other bed.

However, the shade he summoned tonight didn't look like Batman. It was the alpha werewolf from earlier. This time Stiles had put a green Henley on him and it clung to his body even nicer than the wife beater. Not what Stiles had intended with that but he was too tired to think too much about it. He fell asleep with the shade sitting on the other bed, watching him from under thick eyebrows.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles had time to get back to Beacon Hills, he wasn't in a hurry, so he didn't push it. He made it a three-day trip which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had stopped at a comic book store around noon the first day and had lost track of time.

He needed a birthday present for Kira so his stop was totally necessary. How could he have possibly known that he would end up talking to the clerk for four hours straight? But there was the new Marvel movie coming out and Stiles had opinions, okay? Turned out the clerk, Martin, had opinions as well and it was a slow afternoon.

When Martin's manager came in, interrupting a heated discussion that Stiles had been truly enjoying, Stiles hurried to pay for his books and left the store with the latest Naruto volumes under his arm. He had made Scott taken pictures of Kira's bookshelf to find out up to which one she already had and no, he didn't trust Scott to just tell him. Kira had one volume of Inuyasha three times because they had trusted Scott to keep track of her manga collection.

Stiles also left the comic book shop with Martin's number. To continue their discussion later.

It was already late, no point in hitting the road again today, so Stiles got himself a room. With one big bed.

He sent the name of the motel and his room number to Martin. And if he liked pizza?

Martin did come over when he got off work and they actually did talk most of the night. They had pizza on the bed with bottles of coke, talking animatedly about movies and comics, not limited to Marvel. Stiles enjoyed the company, it was nice.

Being on the road as much as he was, away from his pack, it could get rather lonely. Especially since this had become a solo gig. He'd never guessed that he would miss Peter's company. Not that they had fucked but they had challenged each other mentally and it had been fun. When they hadn't been at each other's throat, ready to kill each other, that had been fun too.

Martin knew that Stiles was just passing through, they wouldn't see each other again, so he didn't bother with personal questions which Stiles appreciated. Stiles had his story he usually told if questions came up because the fact that he was part of a werewolf pack and out helping other packs and various kinds of other supernatural beings was kind of hard to explain.

They did end up in bed eventually and that was nice too.

In high school, Stiles had been all gangly, with his limps getting in the way most of the time, not that that had really changed but he had kind of grown into it. And he had been self-conscious about his impression on other people. He blamed it on Peter that that had changed.

Stiles had turned into a babbling mess when a woman had tried to seduce him after he'd rescued her from a hunter for the first time. But seeing how Peter just rolled with it and enjoyed the moment without looking back, Stiles had learned to have some fun now and then too. However, he still was more Sam to Peter's Dean.

Peter had banned him from watching Supernatural after that remark.

Martin spent the night but left before Stiles could offer breakfast.

An hour later Stiles was on the road again.

The next night Stiles spent alone and when he was ready to turn off the lights, he summoned a shade. It had kind of become part of his nightly ritual, just like brushing his teeth. Get under the covers, set the alarm, summon a shade and turn off the lights. He didn't even think about it any longer.

It was the alpha werewolf again. Stiles had given up, trying to figure out how he'd come up with this one. It was nice to look at and as protection went, there was not a lot out there that would dare to mess with an alpha werewolf.

Stiles slept with the werewolf watching over him. Or at least until he was asleep. Stiles was pretty sure that he couldn't hold a shade while he was sleeping, or while he was unconscious for that matter. Which was something he should look into farther, it would be easy enough with a camera pointed at the shade while Stiles was sleeping and would most likely lifesaving useful one day, but if he was honest, Stiles didn't want to.

As it was, Stiles could go to sleep with the good feeling that somebody was watching over him. If he knew for sure that said somebody was gone the second he fell asleep … he didn't want to go there. He liked being able to sleep most nights, thank you very much.

It kept his insomnia and the nightmares under control and for once in his life, Stiles was fine with not knowing.

The shade was gone in the morning, of course, but on a whim, Stiles summoned it again when he was in the car. For practice.

The shade was blinking and breathing and all that but it just sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. Stiles hadn't summoned it with a specific task in mind so this was all it would do until Stiles told it otherwise. Or if something attacked Stiles but he doubted that would happen today.

They were on an open road, Stiles hadn't seen another car in about an hour, and they still had hours ahead but he should reach Beacon Hills in the afternoon.

Stiles had never really needed someone to contribute to a conversation, so the fact alone that there was something that looked as if it listened was sitting next to him was enough to make him babble along.

The shade lasted for a little over an hour which actually surprised Stiles. Usually, he summoned his shades in a fight when he had to focus on staying alive while he was holding the spell and most of the time doing other magic stuff. And he dismissed the shades once the fight was over. The only shades he let run out on their own where the ones he summoned at night and he didn't want to know how long those lasted.

But now he only had to drive while he was holding the spell and it lasted surprisingly long. So he had actually learned something from this. Stiles grinned and already planned to use a timer next time. Could he expand the duration?

However, those thoughts were forgotten once he reached Beacon Hills. Stiles drove straight out to the preserve to the Hale house.

When things had settled down for once, Peter had bulldozed the burned out shell of his house and had built a new one in the same spot.

"This has been Hale territory for centuries," Peter had said. "As long as there is a Hale alive, this should be the residence of his pack."

Peter was the only Hale still alive, at least until they had found Malia who went by the name Hale now as well, and Stiles had expected him to kill a random alpha and take the territory for himself but Peter had gifted it to the pack instead.

Peter, however, didn't stay that much at the house but like every member of the pack, he had a room there. But he had set up a corner in the library with the photos of the Hales who had died in the fire. His pack, his family, everybody Peter had lost that day. Even Laura's photo was there. She didn't die in the fire but she had been a victim of it as well.

Stiles had no idea where Peter had found those pictures or that he even was the sentimental kind of guy but the photos had been there when he gave Scott the keys and nobody dared to mess with them.

Stiles barely got out of the care before Scott had him in a bear hug.

"Good to see you," Scott said and buried his nose in Stiles' neck. Stiles hugged him back just as fiercely. They had seen each other just two weeks ago but it seemed longer. Stiles wasn't a wolf but he still was part of the pack and he felt his bond with Scott and the rest of the pack coming to live now. He was home.

The others were waiting at the door. Stiles had only been away for two weeks but it never sat right with the rest of the pack that he was out there, facing danger alone. Not that Beacon Hills was a danger-free zone, quite the opposite, but at least they could face that together.

After years of growing together as a pack, they all had succumbed to their instincts. The wolves, and the one coyote, shamelessly scented Stiles who just bathed in their attention. Malia was the most tactile of them but Erica, Boyd, and Isaac weren't far behind and Stiles felt their noses and hands roaming his neck and upper body. When they finally had their fill, they eased off so that Lydia and Kira could greet him as well. They opted for fierce hugs which weren't less loving than the scenting.

"Welcome home." Kira kissed him on the cheek and then they finally let him far enough into the house to drop his bag and kick off his shoes.

Stiles had been in constant contact with Scott and the others so he knew at least the basics of what was going on in Beacon Hills and they knew about what he had been up to but they still spent half the night updating each other.

It didn't take long and they were all scattered over the living room, on the couch, the chairs and the floor, partly lying on top of each other, eating Chinese takeout and simply enjoying the fact that the pack was almost complete once again. Peter wasn't there but he'd never been the touchy-feely kind of guy.

It was three in the morning, Erica was lying on the floor with her head pillowed on Boyd's belly with Isaac's legs over hers. All three were fast asleep. Scott and Kira had a chair with Kira sitting in Scott's lap, both barely blinking, and Malia and Lydia had sandwiched Stiles on the couch. Stiles was close to drifting off as well and in the middle of his pack, he didn't worry about bad dreams.

However, Lydia did shoo them off to bed eventually and with a sigh, Stiles stretched out on his bed not much later.

The next day Stiles went to see his dad and Melissa.

"How long are you going to stay?" Melissa asked. She was still in her scrubs after a long shift and clinging to her mug of coffee while his dad had the day off and was launching at the kitchen table with his own mug.

"Not sure yet," Stiles admitted. He was fiddling with his own cup of coffee, not looking them in the eye. They had never been comfortable with him out there doing what he did and he still wasn't sure if they thought it was better or worse that he wasn't doing it with Peter any longer. But they had accepted that this was what he wanted to do.

"At least for Kira's birthday," Stiles added. Which was in two days. He had no idea how long after that, he had nothing lined up so he might be able to stay for a while. But if he got a call, he might have to drop everything and run to the rescue. In his line of work, every call was an emergency call.

He didn't have to say that out loud, his dad and Melissa were painfully aware of that fact. And that he might not come back from a job.

He didn't stay long, Melissa looked as if she was about to fall asleep at the kitchen table any second now, but they promised to come over to the Hale house for dinner later.

When he was home, Stiles liked to cook for the pack. If he left them, and his dad, to fend for themselves, they would live off meat and convenience food alone. Lydia was the only one he trusted to eat healthy but the shifters needed a high protein diet, Stiles got that, but there was a healthier way to maintain that than junk food and dollar store meat.

So Stiles' next stop was the grocery store. He had a whole pack plus Melissa and his dad to feed which meant lots of groceries but of course, he had totally forgotten to bring any strong pack members for the heavy lifting.

But the solution was simple, Stiles summoned a shade before the left the car. Even if somebody noticed that the passenger seat had been empty just a second ago, this was Beacon Hills, people here had seen stranger things.

Stiles hadn't even thought about the shape of his shade, he needed something strong that passed as human, but he wasn't surprised when he opened his eyes and found the alpha werewolf sitting next to him.


	4. Chapter 4

As long as Stiles kept his orders simple and specific, the shade was quite a help. Fetch this, carry that, it worked out quite well. And since Stiles had summoned it specifically for this task, grocery shopping, he didn't have to narrow it down to the exact brand to get the bread he wanted the shade to fetch.

However, Stiles had forgotten to tell it to check the apples for bad ones or that it shouldn't put said apples on top of the bread. Stiles stopped the shade just in time to save the bread but then he had to sort out some of the apples.

He didn't want to think about what the other customers might think of them, they were quite a strange duo, for sure there were some glances in their direction.

The shade didn't speak and when Stiles wasn't giving it simple orders as if he was talking to a child, it just followed him with the second cart.

Stiles tried his best to focus on the groceries and not on the bulging muscles under that stupidly tight shirt the shade was wearing today. Why couldn't he come up with something not so figure hugging when he imagined this shade? Stiles cursed under his breath and pushed his cart into the next aisle.

He dismissed the shade once the groceries were all stored in the car and it was sitting in the passenger seat again. Back at the house, the others could carry everything in and for some reason, Stiles didn't want them to see his newest creation. He didn't want to know what Lydia might read into its appearance and for sure he didn't want anybody to drool over it, he was thinking of Erica and Malia here.

And if Stiles was honest, he didn't know how Scott would react. The shade was an alpha werewolf after all and technically it was invading Scott's territory. Stiles wasn't sure if it was real enough to provoke Scott's inner wolf but he didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble.

But if he was really honest, he wanted to keep this shade for himself. It was stupid, he knew that, but he didn't want to share.

The only ones at the house where Kira and Isaac, the others were out doing who knew what.

"Did you buy the whole store?" Isaac's eyes budged when he saw the car packed to the roof.

"Have you seen our pantry?" Stiles countered and left the werewolf to the heavy lifting.

Since Kira and Isaac were the only ones available at the moment, or the only ones stupid enough to not flee the scene when they had the chance, Isaac's words not his, Stiles put them on kitchen duty.

However, by the time the others piled in for dinner, Stiles had the second pie in the oven and a roast with mashed potatoes, green beans and what felt like a bucket of gravy ready. Stiles knew what his pack liked. And they knew that they wouldn't get any of it if they didn't eat their share of salad as well.

"We should chain him up in the kitchen." Malia moaned and licked the last bit of gravy off her fingers and was clearly debating if she should lick the plate clean or not. "We need him to cook for us every day."

"How do you even survive when I'm not around?" Stiles wondered but couldn't hide the proud grin when he looked along the table. They were all slumped in their seats, Boyd had even opened the button of his pants and they all looked full and lazy.

"Dessert?" Stiles asked but wasn't quite sure if he wanted to move to get the pies and the ice cream.

A few minutes later at least the shifters were moving again and Scott and Erica served dessert.

"You and your freakish werewolf metabolism," Stiles muttered but put a good scoop of ice cream on his slice of pie. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't be able to eat it all but he was determined to try.

They had enough leftovers for the next day and for Kira's birthday Stiles had already planned to cook all of her favorite food.

Since Stiles, Kira and Isaac had done all the cooking, they left the dishes for the others. Stiles used the moment to catch up more with his dad. They moved over to the library where they had some privacy to talk.

"How are you?" John asked once they were alone. "And don't say fine."

"Just a few scratches and bruises." Stiles waved him off and sat down in one of the heavy leather chairs. Peter and his damn decadence. But the chairs were comfy and Stiles liked to spend hours in here with the books they had gathered over the years.

His dad mirrored his position but he kept a wary eye on him, more sheriff than dad.

"The nightmares?" He asked the questions Scott was too polite to ask. The nightmares had been one of the reasons Stiles had left in the first place. After the Nogitsune things had been … different. Stiles had been different. But only Peter had really seen how deep that difference went. Or he had been the only one who wanted to see. But his dad wasn't blind, he had seen as well. Not all of it but enough. That might have been the reason he had let Stiles leave with Peter but he hadn't liked it. Still didn't like it.

"Didn't have one in months." Stiles dismissed him but met his eyes openly. It was the truth. He had found his way to deal with them. He doubted that it was a healthy coping mechanism but it worked and that was all he cared about.

John watched him for a moment longer before he nodded.

Just sitting around never sat well with Stiles so a moment later his leg started to bounce.

"I get that you don't want to stay here permanently," John said with a sigh. "But why can't you take someone with you? Isaac would love to come with you."

Which was true, the werewolf had offered more than once to take Peter's place at Stiles' side but Stiles had said no every time.

"No, I need …," Stiles started but didn't know how to continue. He didn't know how to put in words how he felt. How he felt when he stayed in Beacon Hills for too long.

His dad nodded in understanding and Stiles got the feeling that he did understand. He might not like it but he did understand.

"Thanks, Dad."

Stiles never had a problem with directing a conversation off one topic so a minute later he was telling his dad how he got a whole pack to sing along with Elsa and how they had had a snowball fight in the summer.

"Big pups, all of them." Stiles chuckled at that memory.

They talked for a bit but when John suggested going back to the others, Stiles gave him the go ahead.

"I'd like to stay here for a moment," Stiles said. He could hear the comforting noises of a full house but after his conversation with his dad, he needed a moment to get his emotions back under control. Scott wouldn't stop fussing over him if he reeked of whatever he was reeking of right now. He was happy to be back but seeing the worry in his father's eyes had left him in a melancholy mood.

Once he was alone, Stiles let his head drop to the back of the chair and he let out a long breath. He loved coming back to his dad and his pack but there were always the questions. He got that they worried about him but he just couldn't stand staying at one place for too long. He knew that he was running but he couldn't help it.

His gaze fell on the memorial wall Peter had set up. His family, his pack, all gone in a burst of flames.

Stiles stood up to have a closer look at the photos. He knew them by heart, had seen them a million times, but he still liked to look at them. While he had been on the road with Peter, living in close quarters, the werewolf had opened up. Not much, he was Peter after all, but he had told a story here and there. About Talia his alpha and about Talia his big sister, the two were quite different but Peter was the only one who remembered that his sister liked to steal his teddy bear when they had been little.

Sometimes Peter had talked about Derek, his nephew. They had been close and when Peter had found out that a hunter had seduced his fifteen-year-old nephew and had used him to wipe out a whole pack, something in him broke. Derek had thought that Kate loved him and she had killed him along with the rest of his family.

Peter had killed her slowly.

From all the people that had died in the fire, Derek was the one Stiles would have liked to get to know. The way Peter talked about him Stiles imagined him as a quiet but smart guy with a dry sense of humor. Sadly Derek didn't live long enough to even turn sixteen.

"Great, now I smell sad." Stiles turned away from the wall. At least his emotional roller coaster had calmed down and he felt composed enough to join the others.

The pack had everything set up for a movie night, with popcorn and chips and bottles of beer, and they were just waiting for him.

John and Melissa said their goodbyes and left the kids to have fun. At that remark, Boyd threw popcorn at them which totally proved the point that he wasn't a kid. But he did it with such a stoic face, they all erupted in laughter.

"Don't you dare and leave again without coming by at least once." Melissa used her mom voice on him when she hugged Stiles goodbye.

"I'll drag him over tomorrow," Scott promised and they would all see each other again the day after that for Kira's birthday party anyway.

They had a fun evening with yelling at the screen and spilled beer and lots of laughter and when Stiles fell into his bed late that night, it was with a broad grin. He'd missed this. The closeness, the silliness, and the good feeling that the people around him knew him and loved him nevertheless.

Stiles woke late in the morning and he snuggled deeper under the covers to savor the comfy feeling of not really being awake for a little while longer. His hand wandered downward without him really noticing, his mind still caught in a dream. When his hand closed around his morning wood, his dream started to shift into a more pornographic direction.

Stiles had his fair share of spank material stored in his mind, he did watch quite some porn and he might have fantasized about one person or the other, but now his mind didn't turn to familiar scenarios. This time Stiles wondered what it would feel like if his alpha werewolf shade closed his hand around his dick.

He imagined the shade lying next to him, naked and with their legs tangled, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss, while the wolf slowly stroked Stiles' length.

Usually, Stiles liked it fast and dirty, especially when he was in a house full of werewolves, but today he drew it out. For a second he was tempted to summon the shade to make the fantasy reality but he abandoned that thought quickly. He wasn't that pathetic.

Stiles came over his own fist with a sigh. Then he lay limp with his cooling come on his hand and stomach, savoring the fantasy of those hands and lips on him.

"I need a shower," Stiles decided and wiped his hand on his t-shirt that had ridden up his stomach.

However, he didn't get out of bed just yet. For a while he just lay there, thinking.

He had been close to summoning a shade for his own pleasure. He'd never done something like that before but he would be lying if he said that it had never crossed his mind. But all his shades looked like real people and using those as some kind of sex toy was just so many levels of wrong, it made his skin crawl just thinking about it. He liked to summon Batman and that shade always looked like Christian Bale. Bale was a hot guy and Stiles would totally tap that but he would feel like he was violating the real person in some way if he crossed that line.

The alpha werewolf, however, didn't look like anybody. It was something Stiles had created on a whim and as far as he knew, it didn't have a real-life counterpart. It still felt wrong, though. Like visiting a brothel on a holodeck.

Shaking off those thoughts Stiles rolled out of bed and padded over to the bathroom for his shower. Hopefully, it would clear his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles almost made it through Kira's birthday without his phone ringing. The weather was nice and they had set up a table in the backyard for all the food Stiles had cooked. When it got dark and the shadows from the wood started to creep in, they lit a bonfire and Stiles illuminated the yard with floating flames. They were just an illusion, no risk of starting a fire with those, but they looked nice.

They had just gotten out the marshmallows and Stiles was about to make the mother of all s'mores, a triple one with double filling, when his phone rang. Stiles had his hands full with melted chocolate and sticky marshmallow which he had to juggle it between his hands in his attempt to assemble his s'more without burning his fingers.

"Not now," Stiles groaned and for a second he was tempted to not answer the phone, everybody he cared about was here except for Peter and he had called earlier to wish Kira happy birthday. It was unlikely that he had gotten in trouble since then.

With a curse Stiles dropped the sticky mass of what would have been a mouth orgasm, he was sure of that but now it would be cold by the time he would get to it, on Lydia's plate who was sitting next to him. Of course, she had a plate for her marshmallows.

Still cursing and licking his sticky fingers at the same time, Stiles fished his phone out of his pocket. All eyes were on him and even if he stepped aside to take the call, freakish werewolf ears would hear every word he said, most likely the other end as well. So when he ended the call a few minutes and some scribbled notes later, everybody knew that he had to leave.

"Sorry, guys," Stiles said and was already about to turn on his heel.

"Oh, c'mon." Scott made a face but it was a token protest, they all had heard what was going on, Stiles didn't have time to sit at the fire, eating s'mores, and they all knew it. Boyd offered him a s'more without a word which Stiles took with a sad smile. He raised it to a salute and then he was on his way back into the house. He still had the taste of sugar and chocolate on his tongue when he got in his jeep half an hour later. He never really unpacked so packing had been a matter of minutes but Isaac insisted to pack him some sandwiches and a thermos with coffee.

"Thanks, man." Stiles gave him a pat on the shoulder and then he said goodbye to the rest of the pack.

"Call me when you get there," Scott reminded him and Stiles knew that he would send out the cavalry if he failed to call on a regular base.

And then Stiles was on the road. If he pulled through, he would get there around noon and he just hoped that it wouldn't be too late.

In his mind, he was sorting through everything he knew about water spirits but there wasn't much more to know than banish it quickly or your kid is dead. Where it came from would be something to find out later. At least there shouldn't be a wannabe witch involved this time.

Stiles had a long drive ahead and the initial rush of adrenaline was wearing off quickly and he just knew that blasting music wouldn't get him through the night, even with the thermos of coffee.

It was way after midnight and for about half an hour he kept himself alert by debating with himself if he should summon the shade again or not. That was one way to stay awake, he guessed.

However, it had only been this morning that he'd almost summoned the shade for sexual services and that was just a line he didn't want to cross. Yet. And that yet really scared him.

In the end, he did summon the shade. Stiles kept his eyes on the road, for safety reasons and absolutely not because he would be drooling over those broad shoulders and that profile with the furry brows over a slim nose. And now he was getting hard. Great.

Stiles threw the shade a disapproving glance as if it was its fault. The shade just looked straight ahead. It was blinking and breathing and if Stiles reached over, he would feel solid muscles under the fabric of its shirt. Its hair looked soft in the dim light.

Stiles' head snapped back to looking at the road again.

"You're awful, you know that?" He accused it.

"No." The shade answered.

Stiles yelped and barely managed to not drive them right into a ditch.

"Damn." Stiles brought the car to a halt at the side of the road. "Way to scare a guy."

Clutching his chest he waited for his rapidly beating heart to calm down.

He had asked it a question and it had answered, it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Stiles had not expected an answer to a rhetorical question.

Except for that roar the shade had used to roar the feral werewolves into submission Stiles hadn't heard its voice and if he was honest, he was surprised that he'd even put enough thought into it to give it a voice. A pretty nice voice if that one little word was anything to go by.

Stiles turned sideways in his seat and eyed the shade. It was still looking straight ahead.

"Say something," Stiles ordered.

"Something," it said.

Stiles cracked up laughing.

"You don't even have a mind." Stiles wiped the tears from his eyes. "But you're funnier than most people I know." He maneuvered the jeep back on the road, he still had a child to rescue.

"It's your seriousness," Stiles said to the shade. "The dry, matter-of-fact way you say it. Hell, Siri has more personality than you. That's why it's so funny."

He gave the shade another glance but it was still looking ahead.

"Okay, new order," Stiles said. "Don't answer rhetorical questions."

The shade didn't give any indication that he'd even heard him but Stiles knew that it would follow his order. However, it would be interesting to see what counted as rhetorical.

The shade wouldn't last the rest of the drive but Stiles made the most out of it. With a willing audience, not that the shade had a choice in that matter and it lacked the ability to care, Stiles didn't feel that weird talking. At first, he recapped what he knew about this kind of water spirit, it always helped him to put something in words to understand it better. This one sounded like something related to kelpies but Stiles would know more once he got there.

Suddenly a deer crossed the road. Not close enough that Stiles was in any danger of hitting it but the incident was enough to launch Stiles into a rant about car accidents involving deer.

"You know, Malia still wouldn't say no to roadkill," Stiles told the shade. "But she loves to hunt it down herself. You should have seen Scott's face the first time she'd brought home a buck. Dragged it home with her teeth in its throat." He shook his head at that memory. "Took some convincing but in the end she let me cook it, parts of it. We had venison for a week."

Talking kept him awake so Stiles talked nonstop until out of the corner of his eye he saw swirling shadows and when he looked over the shade was gone.

Stiles had forgotten to look at the time so he didn't know how long it had lasted this time but it had been at least an hour, maybe one and a half. He didn't want to exhaust himself, he most likely would need his magic later today, so he didn't summon the shade again, though.

But it got him thinking. It probably wasn't a bad idea to build up his magical muscles. So far Stiles hadn't run himself dry but he had felt like crap just the other day when he'd spent the whole night untangling the magical mess Ben had caused.

"And no, that wouldn't just be to ogle a pretty ass," Stiles said to nobody in particular.

Stiles pushed it and only stopped for gas, coffee, and the obligatory pee break now and then. He arrived at his destination in the late morning.

The caller, a man named Karl, had given him directions and when Stiles parked in front of the unremarkable house those directions had led him to, he had only a second to wonder if this was the right place before the front door burst open and a tall man stormed out.

"You're Stiles?" He asked and almost ripped the door off the car in his attempt to get Stiles out of the car quicker.

"I am," Stiles confirmed and got out of the car. "Let's talk inside."

Inside, away from nosy neighbors, Karl started pacing.

"I should have listened to her," he said, walking away from Stiles. "But she's five, kids imagine things all the time." He was coming back to Stiles, kneading his hands. "It didn't sound like something dangerous. At first." He was talking to the opposite wall again. "I mean I know werewolves and hunters and all that stuff but this?"

Stiles got him to stop pacing long enough to get the whole story out of him.

Karl wasn't a werewolf but his wife had been one. They had lived with a pack but when hunters had killed all the wolves, Karl had the sense to pick up his daughter and run. He had stayed away from everything supernatural since then.

"So your daughter … Rebecca?" Stiles paused for him to confirm the name.

"Becky, yes."

"She's not a werewolf?" Stiles asked. Details like that were important.

"I didn't think so." Karl shook his head. "She had been a baby when … her mother died. She has never shown any signs but I called an aunt of my wife when she disappeared and she said that trauma can suppress things like that. So I'm not sure?" He wrung his hands in a helpless manner.

"Trauma can do that." Stiles nodded, thinking of Jackson. This sounded a lot like Jackson if he was honest. "That explains why she picked up on things you didn't notice."

The things Karl hadn't notice were an awful smell, whispered voices and the sound of squishy footsteps.

"Squishy, that's what she said," Karl repeated the word.

"Can I see her room?" Stiles asked but he already knew what he would find. There was a reason Karl hadn't called the police when his little girl disappeared from her bedroom. Instead, he had reached out to a relative of his dead wife he hadn't had contact with in five years.

The room was a mess. It looked like an arena for mud wrestling with mud stains up the walls and even specks on the ceiling. The floor was still wet and when Stiles stepped on the rug, it made a squishy noise.

"Where is the river?" Stiles asked.

"You think it took her there?" Karl asked and Stiles didn't point out his muddy boots to him. He had been there looking for his daughter probably the whole night.

"If this is what I think it is, it's a kind of water spirit that lives in rivers," Stiles told him, already on his way down the stairs. He didn't have time to waste. These things weren't in for a quick kill, they liked to lure their victims in and to keep them for a while. But not forever.

"I'll show you the way." Karl was right behind him.

"No." Stiles stopped him with his flat hand to the other man's chest. "I'll go alone."

"The hell you are." Karl tried to push past him but with a little magic aid, Stiles stood like a brick wall.

"You've been out there all night without finding her," Stiles reminded him. "I know what I'm looking for but I have to focus and I can't do that when you're worrying all over the place." Stiles locked eyes with him, trying to make him see reason.

"You can come with me or I can find her, your decision." It was a harsh thing to say, the man was going mad with worry, but Stiles didn't have time for this.

Karl deflated under his gaze and directed Stiles to the river.

"I'll bring her back," Stiles promised before he left. He just hoped it wasn't a lie.


	6. Chapter 6

The river wasn't far from the house, of course, just behind a line of trees.

"Who in their right mind wants to live next to a fucking river?" Stiles muttered under his breath.

At least the facts had been so obvious that even over the phone Stiles had known exactly what he was dealing with. Water spirits were vicious and just a pain in the ass but they weren't good at hiding their tracks. Most likely because they didn't have to, normal people like Karl could walk right past them without noticing anything.

Stiles made it to the trees in a brisk stride, feeling Karl's eyes on his back. Once he was out of sight, he slowed down and opened his senses to get a feeling for his surroundings. Even before he reached the water's edge he smelled it. Cool and fresh but with a foul stench underneath. It was summer and the river was running low, leaving a dried up edge that had a little give to it when Stiles stepped as close to the water as he dared without falling into the river. But of course the ground under him crumbled and Stiles ended with one foot in the water. It wasn't deep and he caught himself before falling in completely but he did have a wet foot now.

"Should have brought rubber boots." Stiles shook his leg in the vain attempt to get the water out of his shoe.

The woods around the river weren't quiet, crickets and mosquitoes didn't care about a monster among them, no matter what Hollywood said. Even the magical shift in the air that raised the hairs on Stiles' arms wasn't enough to keep the little fuckers from sucking him dry. But under the buzzing of the mosquitoes, Stiles heard or more correctly felt another thrumming. A dissonance with the natural supernatural environment. There was something here that shouldn't be here.

Stiles closed his eyes and reached for the shady place. When he opened his eyes again, the shade of the alpha werewolf stood next to him. Despite the weather, it was wearing a leather jacket over the usual shirt.

Stiles allowed himself a second to wonder where that detail had come from but then a mosquito attacked his neck.

"Fucking mosquitoes." Stiles slapped his hand on his neck but wasn't sure if he got the little fucker or not. He didn't see any mosquitoes attacking the shade, it wasn't real enough to fool them.

"Okay, Lassie," Stiles said, getting back to the task at hand. "Little Becky has fallen into the well."

The shade didn't move, it was just indifferently looking in Stiles' direction, waiting for instructions.

"Don't get that one? Figures." Stiles squinted at it. "There is a little werewolf girl and a water spirit somewhere around here, most likely together. Find them."

That was an order the shade could work with. It held its nose into the light breeze that at least cooled some of the sweat already sticking to Stiles' skin. The sooner they got out of here the better. Apparently, the shade had found a trace because without a warning it started to walk.

Stiles followed.

A bloodhound had nothing on a werewolf, an alpha nonetheless, so if anything could follow Becky's scent it was this shade.

Stiles kept his own senses open as well, feeling for the magical aura of this place. There were natural waves and pattern but something was disrupting it. And the shade was leading him right into the center.

The shade just waded through the creeks and side arms they had to cross, this wasn't a river, this was a fucking maze, and Stiles just tried to not slip and fall into the water head first.

When he felt that they were getting closer to the center, Stiles dismissed the shade and summoned a new one. He didn't want the spell to run out just when he needed it.

They found Becky curled up under the roots of a tree, the water had washed away the soil, leaving just enough space for a five-year-old to crawl under the roots. At least Stiles was pretty sure that the muddy lump was the girl, he didn't get close enough to confirm it.

There was a sidearm between them and Stiles was already wet and muddy up to his knees so he was looking for a way to cross the water without taking a swim when suddenly something breached the surface.

The figure was kind of human-shaped but covered in muck and with strings of vegetation hanging from it, that was all Stiles saw before it dragged him under. It happened so fast, Stiles didn't have time to even try to dodge.

Then he was under water. With an arm around his throat and the other one around his middle, the water spirit dragged him to the bottom. Stiles scrambled with his feet but didn't find purchase. He clawed at the thing around his neck, it felt like tendrils and there was no give.

His lungs were already burning but he kept his mouth shut, biting back a scream when that thing around his middle slashed his skin.

The magic outburst was more instinct than anything else. The blinding light pierced through his screwed shut eyes. Stiles didn't even know what he'd done but suddenly the thing holding him eased off, the tendrils falling limp. But they were still wound around him. Stiles twisted and turned, he had to get free, now, but there was still something around his legs and he didn't even know where up was.

 _I'm dead_ , he thought in a clear moment. His lungs were on fire and it hurt so much and he just knew that any second now he would open his mouth.

But then there were hands on him, dragging him in a direction that might be up.

Stiles broke the surface coughing and spitting and for a moment he just hung limply with the back of his head in the crook of the shades neck, his chest pressed firmly against its chest and its strong arm holding him above the water.

Stiles wiped the water off his face and blinked up to the sun. However, half his visual field was filled with a scruffy cheek. The shade was dripping wet as well and there were leaves and dirt clumped in its hair but all in all, it had a nice jawline, Stiles noticed.

The shade dragged him over to were Becky was still lying in the little cave under the roots. As far as Stiles could tell, she hadn't moved and for a second Stiles was sure that she wasn't breathing.

But when he reached for her shoulder to turn her around, she whimpered and her hands twitched.

"Thank God." Stiles breathed out.

His own hands were shaking and his legs felt like jelly and he just wanted to lay down and sleep for a week but first, they had to get out of here.

Stiles had burned most of his energy to banish the water spirit and he used what little he had left to make sure that it was really gone. But what was left of it at the bottom of the river were just the pieces of plants and wood it had used to form a body. It was gone.

"Pick her up," Stiles ordered.

The shade picked her up and cradled her against his chest.

"Bring her home."

The shade started to walk again and Stiles hurried to follow. The shade didn't know exhaustion or near death experiences but Stiles did. At the moment he was still in shock, he knew that, and he just hoped that it would last until they had brought Becky back home. He could crash later.

Karl must have been waiting at the window because as soon as they stepped out into the open field, he came running.

He was a bit taken aback by the man carrying his daughter who simply walked around him when Karl blocked the shade's way.

"Is she alive?" Karl fell into step with the shade and tried to get a look at her.

"Yes," Stiles managed to say. He was breathing hard and still coughing with a brackish taste in the back of his throat. "Let's bring her inside."

"Who are you?" Karl asked the shade who didn't even acknowledged his existence in any way and just kept walking.

"Who is this guy?" Karl turned to Stiles who just made a later motion.

They reached the house and Karl opened the door for them. Stiles and the shade left a wet trail through the kitchen and then they were dripping on the living room floor. Not that anybody cared about that.

"Put her on the couch," Stiles ordered, just glad that the spell hadn't worn off by now. He had no idea how he would have brought Becky back on his own. Stiles was shaking and he was freezing which wasn't a good sign on a hot day.

Karl was fussing over his daughter so Stiles allowed himself to lean against the door-frame. He focused on breathing and tried to ignore the gray edges creeping into his visual field.

Suddenly Becky came to life.

She shot upright with a roar, claws and fangs out. Taken by surprise Karl didn't duck out of the way fast enough and got smacked in the face. But then she went for the alpha werewolf still standing next to her.

The shade didn't defend itself, it just stood there and let the small werewolf lay into him. It was raw and animalistic, pure fear with no sense behind it.

"Subdue her!" Stiles yelled. The last thing he needed now was a feral mini-werewolf.

The shade dropped fangs, its eyes glowed red and it picked up the struggling girl without caring about the little claws slashing its face.

It lifted her up to not quite eye level and then it bared its fangs with a roar.

Becky stared at it with big eyes but she had shifted back and was just a scared little girl now.

"Set her down. Gently." Stiles was next to his shade just in case it dropped her but it set her back on the couch and stepped back.

"Get away from her." Suddenly Karl was between them, shielding his now crying daughter from the shade.

Stiles flicked his wrist and the shade evaporated in shadows.

"What the …?"

"It wasn't real." Stiles tried to look as if he was not seconds from doubling over. "Just a little magic trick."

Karl nodded to that, not ready to process that information just yet. He had his daughter in his arms who was crying into his chest.

"She needs a pack, an alpha," Stiles said. The girl was young, confused and traumatized, she needed the stability of a pack.

"There are a few of my wife's relatives," Karl said more to himself than to Stiles.

"I can make a few calls," Stiles offered. He didn't know on which terms Karl was with that pack.

Karl declined the offer, he wanted to call them first, but he had Stiles' number just in case.

"You sure that thing is gone?" Karl asked the more urgent question.

"I'm sure."

Stiles took the shower Karl offered but he didn't take him up on the offer to stay overnight. Karl had his hands full with his daughter and if Stiles was honest, he wanted to be alone right now.

So once he felt more or less clean again and had put on some fresh clothes, Stiles said goodbye to father and daughter and left. Becky was sleeping and he just hoped that with the help of a pack, she would be able to deal with what happened.

Stiles found a motel where he took another shower after which he did feel clean again but the cold in his bones still lingered. He ordered a pizza which he only half ate and then he turned in around eight in the evening. He hadn't slept in what felt like forever and he was exhausted on so many levels. But sleep wouldn't come.

Stiles drifted off a few times but every time he closed his eyes, he was under water again. He startled awake, fighting his way to the surface just knowing that he wouldn't make it and then he lay in his bed, gasping and with cold sweat clinging to his body.

In the end, he was crying from exhaustion and didn't know what to do. More on instinct than anything else he gathered what little magic he had regenerated.

"Hold me."

The shade did and Stiles fell asleep in its arms.

Stiles slept through the night without nightmares and in the morning, he wolfed down the rest of his cold pizza, got in his car and just drove.

He should drive back to Beacon Hills but he wanted to be alone for a while.

But he couldn't stand the quiet in the car either. His mind always circled back to the moment when he had known that he would die. That he would just open his mouth and let the water in.

So he summoned the shade again. At first, Stiles felt stupid, talking to it, but then the words were just rushing out of his mouth.

It was easy, the shade was just there, it didn't interrupt, it didn't question anything Stiles said. Stiles talked for hours, he didn't even know what about.


	7. Chapter 7

The shade listened.

* * *

 **A/N** _Yes, this is the complete chapter. There will a "regular" one on Sunday._


	8. Chapter 8

After a day on the open road, Stiles felt better. He didn't know where he was, he had just driven all day without a destination in mind. He stopped in a nice little town and found a diner for dinner. Over the day he'd lived mostly off coffee, snacks and a gas station sandwich, he was starving. So he ordered a burger with extra fries and for dessert two slices of pie with ice cream.

"Hungry?" The waitress asked amused when she took his order but sobered up when he basically inhaled his burger. With the worst taken care of, Stiles ate the fries more slowly, his gaze wandering around the diner.

He wasn't the only patron but it was far from being packed. He wondered if anybody else in the room had almost died the other day. Probably not.

Stiles washed the pies down with three cups of coffee, and no he was not deliberately dosing himself up with enough caffeine to keep him awake the whole night.

"Any motels you can recommend around here?" Stiles asked the waitress when he paid for his meal.

"We only have one, just down the street you can't miss it." She gestured in that direction. "We don't have many outsiders here."

"Just passing through," Stiles answered the unspoken question.

"You're far from the interstate, got lost?" She was the motherly type and Stiles wondered if he could charm another slice of pie out of her but dismissed the idea immediately.

"I'm not in a hurry." If he was honest, he didn't even know what he was doing here. He should have turned around and drive back to Beacon Hills this morning.

She was fishing for information, he was most likely the most interesting thing that had happened here all day. Where did he come from, where was he going but Stiles wasn't in the mood for a little chit-chat. Besides, he had no idea where he was going.

So he just thanked her and left the diner to search for the motel. He was beat. He had gotten banged up pretty bad yesterday and a day in the car might not have been his brightest idea. His whole body was stiff and aching and he had used his magic almost as fast as he'd regenerated it just to keep going, so a bed sounded pretty awesome right now.

When he parked the jeep in the parking lot of the motel he noticed somebody behind the window, already waiting for him.

"Small towns," Stiles muttered to himself when he got out of the car.

There was an elderly couple behind the counter when he entered the office and they made a decent job, pretending that they were surprised to see him.

How a motel could survive if a paying customer was such a rare sight was beyond Stiles but he didn't really care.

"Stilinski." The man read his signature. "Is that Polish?"

"My mother's side, a long time ago," Stiles answered, still not in the mood for small talk but the fact that he was carrying his mother's name would give them something to gossip about.

He got the keys and breathed easier once he was alone in his room.

The usual two queens. The sheets looked clean and the only smell Stiles could identify in the air was the chemical lemon somebody must have sprayed just minutes ago to freshen up the stale room. For a second he wondered when the last guest had stayed here but then he just dropped his bag on the second bed and went to open all the windows. The bathroom looked clean as well, no mold or cracked tiles and the shower was big enough for two people.

"Hope the water pressure is good," Stiles said but didn't turn the knobs to find out. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and stretched out on his bed. For a few minutes, he just lay there with his hands behind his head. He should call Scott. He had shot him a few messages and had called him once, just to let him know that he was still alive and that the monster was dead but he hadn't told him that he wouldn't be back in Beacon Hills by tomorrow.

"Better get it over with," Stiles muttered and rolled out of bed to get his laptop.

A minute later Scott's face appeared in the little window.

"You okay?" Was the first thing he said and Stiles wished that he had taken the time to freshen up a little before this. Well, too late.

"Just a little tired," Stiles tried to brush it off but Scott narrowed his eyes at him.

"You'll be back home tomorrow," Scott said as if it was a fact. "You should allow yourself more than a few days to rest, you've been running yourself in the ground lately."

"I should," Stiles agreed. He thrummed his fingers on the laptop, not sure how to tell Scott that he didn't know where he was but for sure more than a day's drive from Beacon Hills.

"But?" Scott prompted.

"I won't make it back by tomorrow."

"Stiles!" Scott leaned forward as if he wanted to grab Stiles and just drag him through the screen. "You can't keep doing this. Not like this. Come home. Whatever emergency this is, it can wait a day. Take Isaac with you or Malia, don't do this alone." The last bit was a plea Stiles had heard way too often. With Peter, it had been good. They were more similar than both of them liked to admit but it had been fun to have somebody around who could keep up with him.

Isaac, Malia and the rest of the pack, they didn't think like him. They would come with him, no doubt about that, but they would try to solve the problems their way and it would be a fight every single time until they would agree to Stiles' way. He loved them, all of them, but he would end up murdering them in their sleep.

"I work better alone," Stiles dismissed the idea.

Scott opened his mouth to protest but Stiles cut him off.

"Let's talk tomorrow, I'm tired." Stiles didn't give him a chance to respond and just shut the laptop. With a sigh, he dropped back and stretched out on the bed again.

It didn't take long for his phone to inform him that he had a new message. And two more.

"Seriously, Scott?" Stiles said to the empty room. "Just let me fucking sleep."

Not that he would be able to sleep any time soon. He had too much coffee and after a day stuck in the car, he felt sticky all over. Even with the windows down, it had been hot in the car and the jeep didn't have air conditioning.

With a groan, his body had liked the lying position, Stiles got up and then he started to peel the sticky layers of clothes off his body. A shower sounded awesome right now. And he wouldn't be able to hear his phone while he was in there.

Yesterday Stiles had only done the bare minimum of first aid, mainly the deep scratch on his stomach, but now he took the time to actually look at himself in the mirror. He had a few minor scratches on his cheek, maybe another reason why the waitress had been so interested in his story, his fingernails didn't look so good either, he had been clawing for his life at the thick tendrils trying to drown him and it had left marks on his hands and forearms. There even was a purple shadow under his chin but the choking mark wasn't that obvious, at least he hoped so.

"Maybe I should hole up until I don't look like a victim of abuse any longer," Stiles mused but then he shrugged and turned to test the shower.

The water pressure was more than decent and for a moment Stiles just let the hot jets of water hit his neck and shoulders to loosen up the muscles there.

Stiles washed his body mechanically with his mind just drifting. Almost on its own, his hand found its way to his dick. At first, it was just about washing his junk, it still felt as if he had muck stuck in the creases of his sac, but things turned a different way rather quickly.

Stiles kept his eyes closed while he slowly fisted his rapidly filling cock and his mind provided him with some nice pictures of that damn shade. Stiles wondered what it would feel like if it put its mouth on him.

It wasn't a conscious decision and Stiles almost missed the shift in his mind when he reached into the shady place. But then his eyes snapped open. He wasn't alone in the shower any longer.

"Fuck." Stiles thumped his head against the tiles behind him and he did raise the hand not fisting his cock to dismiss the shade but then he paused.

The shade was kneeling in front of him, butt naked and with its eyes fixed on Stiles' dick which was basically right in its face.

This was the line Stiles had never wanted to cross. But the shade was his own creation, no real person being violated by this, and if he was honest, he just didn't care. He was exhausted and wound up and just sore all over and he just wanted some release.

Stiles let go of his dick and pressed both palms flat against the wall behind him.

"Blow me," he ordered.

Without hesitation, the shade leaned forward and took the head in its mouth. Stiles closed his eyes.

The shade knew exactly how Stiles liked his blowjobs, it had been created for this specific task, so it didn't take long until Stiles came deep in its throat. Its stubble scratched over his balls, adding a delicious sensation to the muscles of its throat milking every last drop of come out of him.

"Remind me to never give you a gag reflex," Stiles said once he could form words again. The hot water was still splashing down on him but his dick almost felt cold when it slipped out of the shade's mouth.

"Never give me a gag reflex," the shade said and then it was just kneeling there, looking up at him. Drops of water got caught in its eyelashes and beard, its hair was plastered to its head and it just looked up at Stiles, waiting for orders.

Stiles couldn't help it, he laughed. The whole situation was just so surreal.

He knew that he should dismiss the shade now but when he stepped out of the shower and dried off, he told the shade to do the same.

Stiles' balls were still tingling from the stubble scratching over them and today he just needed more. He should go out and find sex the old fashioned way or stick to his own hand, he knew that, but he doubted the gay population in this little town was that high and he had the best sex toy right here.

"And I really need a good fuck," Stiles defended his decision to nobody in particular.

Stiles got his bottle of lube and then he got comfortable on the bed. He was lying on his front, legs spread wide and the warm feeling of doing something forbidden pooling in his stomach.

"Eat me out," Stiles ordered and a second later the mattress dipped when the shade got in position between his legs. "Use your stubble as well and then tongue fuck me."

The shade spread Stiles' cheeks with both hands and then it licked over his entrance with the flat of its tongue. It made Stiles shiver all over with the promise of what was about to come and he buried his face in the pillow with a moan.

Next thing he felt was the shade's chin following the path of the tongue.

"Fuck!" Stiles bucked under it but the shade still had its hands on his butt, pinning him down.

Stiles didn't know how long the shade had been eating him out, its saliva was dripping down his balls and his hole just felt loose and sloppy and Stiles just knew that he would have beard burn in the most uncomfortable place possible tomorrow.

By now he was hard again, his cock full and aching trapped under him.

"Add a finger," Stiles managed to say. He was fisting the sheets with both hands now and shamelessly humping the mattress.

Stiles needed more but he forced himself to slow down and let the shade use some lube when it added one finger after the other until it was fucking him with three fingers and the additional tongue.

"Oh god," Stiles moaned. He was a writhing mess and close to coming from this alone but that wasn't what he needed today.

"Lube up and shove your dick in there," Stiles brought out through gritted teeth. "Fuck me into the mattress, fuck me hard."

Stiles didn't have a second to rethink his order before the shade withdrew its fingers and then it grabbed him by the hips and with one forceful snap of its hips it was buried balls-deep in him.

"Shit," Stiles cried out but the shade put up a brutal rhythm and Stiles almost hit his head on the headboard.

The shade did fuck him hard, pounding his ass, until Stiles spilled his release without a touch to his dick that was still trapped under him.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles didn't bother with cleaning up or even rolling out of the wet spot, he just wiggled a little until he was mostly lying on his side and then he fell asleep with the body of the shade a solid wall in his back.

Stiles woke at two in the morning. He came up gasping and fighting the blanket and for a second the feeling of drowning was so overwhelming, he tasted brackish water in the back of his throat.

"Damn." Stiles dropped on his back, chest heaving and heart still pounding but at least by now he was sure that he was in his bed and not under water.

This was the main reason he wasn't back with his pack yet. Scott would have come running if he had a nightmare like this at the pack house and they all would watch him with pity in their eyes and maybe even a little bit concerned. Wondering if the Nogitsune was back.

With a sigh, Stiles got out of bed to use the bathroom and since he was there and already naked, he used the chance to rinse the dried come off his stomach along with the layers of sweat. Then he dumped his stuff from the second bed and slipped under the covers there.

But sleep wouldn't come again. Stiles tried for almost an hour, his body still sore and exhausted, but he was just staring into the darkness with the nightmares waiting behind the veil.

Around three in the morning he gave up and turned on the TV.

It did help to chase away the lingering nightmare but then other thoughts crept into his mind. With a frustrated groan, he reached for his phone and started typing.

 _Just hypothetically, if I fucked one of those shades of mine, would that be bad?_

It didn't surprise him when Peter answered immediately.

 _Did it look like me?_

That made Stiles snort.

 _Narcissistic much?_

He liked Peter and he was the only person he could think of to turn to with something like this in the middle of the night but Stiles didn't like him like that.

 _No it didn't look like you,_ Stiles wrote. _Or like anybody else, original by me_ _  
_

 _Where's the problem, then?_

Stiles didn't have an answer to that. And the sex had been awesome, he couldn't deny that, but it still left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Maybe because the shade looked so much like a real person.

"Why didn't I think of some demon spawn with hooves and a goat head?" Stiles tossed the phone on the nightstand. "I wouldn't even think about fucking something like that."

However, in the morning he did summon the shade again. Stiles didn't feel rested at all and for sure he wasn't in the mood to put on pants.

"When I told you to fuck me into the mattress you really took that to heart," he said to the now fully dressed, with boots and leather jacket and everything, shade that was standing in the middle of the room. The shade didn't answer.

"Take this money." Stiles handed him a few bills. "Put it in your pocket."

He wasn't even sure if the shade was able to do what he was about to ask it to do but it was worth a try. And better test the limits now than during an emergency.

The shade pocketed the money and then just stood there waiting for farther instructions.

"There is a diner down the street," Stiles told it. "You go there, wait your turn and then you order a large coffee with extra sugar and a stack of pancakes with maple syrup, both to go." He paused to not jumble the instructions. "You give them all the money and tell them to keep the change. Then you bring the coffee and the pancakes back to me."

The shade left and Stiles was really tempted to throw on some pants and go after it, just to watch, but in the end, his sore butt and the comfy bed won.

It did actually surprise Stiles when not much later the shade returned with coffee and pancakes.

"I think I love you, big guy." Stiles made grabby hands for the coffee.

It was a somewhat surreal situation. Stiles was having breakfast in bed, and he really should let the maid in today or he wouldn't have a non-sticky bed tonight, and the shade was sitting on the other bed, watching him.

Why he hadn't dismissed it immediately Stiles didn't know but he liked having it around.

"Bet the grapevine is busy by now," Stiles said around a mouthful of pancake. "Two strangers sharing a room, one looking like a handsome bad guy." He gestured at the shade.

Stiles wouldn't even think about what the locals might think if he left today but he was considering staying another night or two. He didn't really have anywhere he needed to be, except for Beacon Hills but he better waited with that until he had time to deal with his latest near-death experience. Scott would chain him to a wall in the basement to keep him safe if he realized how dangerous Stiles' job actually was. So far he had managed to gloss over the more grim sites of it.

"You need a name," Stiles said out of the blue. It would make things more real, he knew that. There was a reason he referred to it as _the shade_ and _it_. If he gave it a name, he would acknowledge that it was more than a temporary form. It would become something like Batman, where the name was linked with a certain set of skills and abilities. A name gave a shade form.

"Any suggestions?" Stiles asked.

"No," the shade answered obediently. It was enough to make Stiles smile.

"You always look as if you're brooding," Stiles mused, taking a sip of his coffee. "A bit sour, to be honest."

The next hour he entertained himself with coming up with the silliest names he could think of. Sourwolf and Broody McBroodbrood were the just the harmless ones. All the while, the shade just sat there, looking straight ahead and didn't react to any of the names.

Stiles had long finished his breakfast and had stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head. Last night had been way too short.

"You could pass as a grown-up Derek Hale." It was just a random thought, Stiles had no idea why he was thinking about the dead Hales right now but he'd long given up, trying to figure out what had caused a jump in his train of thoughts. Most of the time the new direction was way too interesting to question it. And this was an interesting thought.

Stiles wasn't sure why or under which circumstances it would ever become relevant but with the name of a real person, even a dead one, it would be easier to build up an identity. Stiles cursed his paranoid brain but he did like the idea.

Stiles set up and put his feet on the ground. He was now sitting face to face with the shade, their knees almost touching.

"From now on your name is Derek Hale," Stiles told it. "You will respond to Derek, Derek Hale, and Mr. Hale." He thought about it for a moment. "And Sourwolf."

The shade, Derek, didn't show any indication that he'd even heard Stiles, he just looked over Stiles' left shoulder at the wall behind him.

"Derek, stand up," Stiles ordered.

Derek stood.

And now his crotch was right in Stiles' face. He was wearing loose jeans so it wasn't exactly visible what was hidden under the denim but Stiles knew that he was packing. He was still sitting more on one butt cheek to not agitate his sore hole.

"Sit back down," Stiles said, just to get Derek's groin out of his face. With a name, it felt even more wrong to use him for his own pleasure.

Derek lasted only for a few minutes longer. He evaporated in a swirl of shadows and then Stiles was alone.

Checkout time was at eleven so Stiles eventually did have to put on some pants before he made his way over to the office to book the room for two more nights.

This time the woman was alone in the office and apparently in a chatty mood. Today Stiles did not mind. If he did spend two more nights in this town, it would be good to know some basics. Most people didn't know about the supernatural so Stiles didn't expect information like "the local coven is having their weekly book club meeting at the library tomorrow" or "don't go out to the old McCullen ranch at night, some bloodsuckers have made themselves at home there". However, ordinary small-town gossip could be worthwhile as well.

Stiles learned that her name was Edith and that she and her husband Theodore had been running the motel for about forty years now. She had two children, a boy and a girl, but they were all grown up and had left this sleepy little place for the busy life in the big city. Stiles didn't even know what counted as the nearest big city around here, he really should find out where exactly he was some time soon but he didn't ask. He still looked banged up, no need to give the impression that he was a drifter on top of that.

"So," Edith drew out the word. "You and your … friend? You're going to stay for a while?"

Stiles thought about the two ruined beds in his room, one with dried come and the other with maple syrup.

"Boyfriend, actually," Stiles corrected, watching her closely for her reaction.

"You got yourself a handsome one." She winked at him with dreamy eyes. So much for the question who had seen the shade earlier. "Not a morning person according to Jane. She runs the diner and she said that he didn't say a word aside from his order."

"Yeah, he's not a man of many words." Stiles rubbed the back of his head. But the shade had passed as human even if he hadn't used his pleases and thank yous. That was really good to know, Stiles could work with that.

"So people are already talking about us?" Stiles put his elbow on the counter and leaned in to her.

"Oh, you're the most interesting thing that had happened around here since two weeks ago this guy from Los Angeles got lost and his car broke down a couple of miles out of town. He had to stay for three days until his car was fixed."

Stiles laughed at that.

Of course, Edith was fishing for more information but Stiles directed the conversation in a different direction. When he left the office, he knew that there was nothing touristic around here, if he didn't count the small museum about local history the retired librarian was running in her attic. Then there was the library which Stiles might visit at some point and it looked like "Doug's Fish and Game" was the social hot-spot around here.

Stiles left the office with a general idea of this place but he would feel better once he had a feeling for the things normal people didn't notice.

He spent the next few hours in the car, first exploring the town itself and then its surroundings. For most of the time, he had Derek at his side, with a little practice the spell did last longer which was a nice side effect of him spamming this spell.

Besides, since he had established Derek's existence in this place, it would look weird if nobody actually saw him.

From a magical angle, the town was as sleepy as from a non-magical angle. There was some old magic around here but it felt settled and probably hadn't been disturbed in decades. Stiles parked the jeep on one of the back roads that lead through the woods and got out of the car. There was what looked like a hiking trail starting here and by the looks, he wasn't the first who had parked his car here. But he was pretty sure that he was the only one who felt the pulsing of sleeping magic around here.

"You in for some hiking?" Stiles asked Derek who was still sitting in the car.

"Yes," he answered but only moved when Stiles told him to.

Finding the center of whatever was in the center of this, was easy. It just took a while to get to it. Derek only lasted for the first half an hour but Stiles didn't summon him again. He might need him to find his way back.

"Well, hello," Stiles said when he entered the clearing. The Nemeton in Beacon Hills had been cut down and was only slowly growing back to its old strength. But this one was intact, a mighty tree that had been undisturbed for centuries.

Stiles put his hand on the trunk and felt the magical energy thrumming under his palm.


	10. Chapter 10

The tree acknowledged Stiles' presence with a deep hum which he felt in his bones. At home, the magic field around the Nemeton was a mess, due to the damage it had taken, no doubt, but this one was intact and resting in itself and it felt nice. Calming.

Stiles sat down on the soft grass and leaned his back against the trunk. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This was definitely a don't do this at home kind of thing, the tree at home was too damaged and tended to just lash out, but here Stiles dared to open up.

Next thing he knew was that the sun was low in the sky and if he wanted to make it out of the woods before nightfall, he would have to hurry. But he felt good. Well rested as if he had been sleeping for two days straight. He checked his phone to confirm that he hadn't.

Stiles looked up into the crown of the tree. The leaves were rustling in the light breeze and the low sun illuminated them just so.

With a smile, Stiles got up and brushed off the seat of his pants. He wasn't as stiff as he would have expected after sitting here for what might have been hours. Curious he slipped a hand under his shirt in search for that scrape there. It was gone. Along with every other scratch and bruise.

Stiles put his palm on the rough bark one last time.

"Thank you," he said and then he turned to get back to his jeep before he got caught by the night.

He did make it but barely. And by now he was starving. He hadn't eaten since the pancakes he had for breakfast but he hadn't planned on spending most of the day out in the woods.

Stiles stopped at his motel first to shower and to put on some fresh clothes. There hadn't been a path out to the tree so he had had to find his own way which had left him sweaty and with pine needles in places where pine needles had absolutely no business to be.

Then he went over to the diner for a late dinner.

Dinner rush was over at this time of the day and there were only two other patrons, sitting with their heads stuck together in what looked like a good-natured but heated discussion.

"Don't mind them," the waitress, Jane as he had learned, greeted him. "They are harmless." She threw the two old men a fond glance but then her attention was back on Stiles.

"You know." Her eyes flickered to the door behind him and over to the window to check the parking lot. "You two can come in here together. You know that, right? We might be backward here but not that backward."

Stiles blinked at her and it took him a second to process what she was implying.

"No!" He shouted, hands flailing. "That's not … we're not …"

He deflated under her amused gaze.

"It's just." Stiles took a breath. "We were hiking all day and now we're just tired. So take out it is." He hadn't even thought of the shade. "He let me sleep in and got breakfast, it's only fair that I get us dinner." He was just making things up as he went and he just hoped that she didn't ask about the one coffee and one stack of pancakes for two people.

Stiles had planned to eat at the diner but now he ordered to go. At least he was hungry enough to order for two people.

"Where were you hiking?" Jane asked while they waited for the food.

Stiles didn't know the local name, and a place like that had a local name, but his vague description was enough for her to nod knowingly.

"The old woods," she confirmed. "It's beautiful out there, peaceful. As a kid, I liked to pretend that fairies live out there." She shook her head with a smile.

"Yeah, the place is almost magic," Stiles answered and didn't hide his smile.

"So," she filled the following silence. "You're going to stay a few days?"

"I'm …," Stiles started but corrected himself quickly. "We're in no hurry. And we like this place. Might even give fishing a try, heard you have some awesome fishing grounds around here."

"Don't say that too loud." She rolled her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the two men still engaged in their banter.

Now Stiles did try to listen in to their conversation which wasn't hard, they were not exactly quiet.

"Who is old Pete?" Stiles asked after a moment.

"A myth," Jane sighed. "It's supposed to be a catfish who lives out in the lake. Big old bastard. Every fisherman around here claims he had him on the hook at least once but nobody has ever managed to catch him."

Stiles snorted to that.

"Every small town has an old Pete, I guess." Stiles liked the simplicity of this. That the biggest problem these two men had was if that fish was real and how big it had been when they had it on the hook the last time.

"Don't listen to her." One of the men turned to them. "Old Pete is real, I've seen him with my own eyes."

And that was how Stiles got roped into a discussion about the legendary catfish around here. With the Nemeton in their backyard, he wouldn't be surprised if a fish grew bigger and lived longer than it was supposed to but he didn't voice that opinion.

In the end, his grumbling stomach and Jane's pointed look at his food sitting under the heater got him going. He would have loved to stay, Doug and Oscar were like a married old couple, bickering and fighting over the silliest things and their passion about that damn fish was just endearing.

However, he had an imaginary boyfriend waiting for his food at the motel so Stiles said his goodbyes and left the diner with his bags of food. The smell alone made his mouth water and his stomach cramped into painful knots. He hadn't eaten all day and using magic did burn quite some energy and as nice as the visit to the Nemeton had been, it had taken its toll.

He almost managed to eat all the food by himself, he only had a box of chicken nuggets left that would do as a two in the morning snack.

Stiles leaned back in his chair and patted his full stomach while he washed down the last bite with the rest of his coke and then let out a burp.

"That was good." He stretched and eyed his freshly made bed. He wasn't really ready for sleep yet but getting out of his jeans and stretching out on the bed did sound nice.

Stiles got comfortable on the bed and spent the next hour on his laptop. Eventually, he ended up on a porn site. He watched a video or two but then he shut the laptop. He wasn't in the mood, not like this.

But last night was back on his mind.

"The sex has been good," Stiles mused. He was lying with one hand behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, and with his other one he was cupping himself through his boxers. His cock started to fill with the memory of those lips around him.

"Fuck it." He capitulated and a second later Derek was standing next to his bed. Naked.

Stiles glanced at him and took a moment to admire the view. Pale skin dusted with dark hair, those intense eyes looking down on him from under thick eyebrows.

Stiles let his eyes wander over his chest and stomach, muscles firm and delicious under smooth skin.

The flaccid cock was lying nestled in the dark curls and for a second Stiles just wanted to get his mouth on it. He wanted to feel it fill on his tongue but then he paused. Yesterday he hadn't even thought about it, he had just told Derek to put his cock in, but now he wondered what it took to get him hard. And if a shade could come.

When Becky the mini-werewolf had lashed out on Derek, she had broken the skin in some places and the shade had bled. But it all depended on how real Stiles made his shades.

"Come here." Stiles waved him over. Once Derek was close enough Stiles ran the tip of his forefinger over Derek's cock from the root to the tip. It twitched under his touch.

"Interesting." Stiles cupped his balls and rolled them in his palm while he watched Derek's face closely. It stayed blank as always. There was nothing behind those eyes.

Stiles stripped off his shirt and boxers and then he stretched out again.

"Lay down with me." He patted the spot next to him.

Derek did and suddenly their faces were only inches apart.

"Kiss me," Stiles demanded and then he had only time to nervously lick his lips before Derek caught them in a kiss. His lips were as soft as Stiles had imagined. Most likely because he had imagined them that way but he refused to think about that now.

His hand found its way into Derek's hair, holding him close.

"Kiss me good," Stiles ordered and dove back in. He took the lead but Derek did respond. Stiles took his time, mapping out Derek's mouth, and Derek kissed him back, his tongue probing and teasing.

"Damn, you're a good kisser." Stiles broke the kiss and when he shifted to get into a more comfortable position, he noticed that he wasn't the only one with an erection.

"Take both our cocks in your hand," Stiles ordered. "I want a nice little handjob."

Derek reached down and then his hand closed around both of them, trapping Stiles' cock between Derek's erection and his hand.

"Fuck." Stiles let his head fall back into the pillow when Derek started to move his hand.

"Should have added lube," he muttered but the slight burn added a delicious extra layer and his precome was already starting to ease the way.

Derek knew how he liked his handjobs and with Derek's own cock in the mix, it didn't take long for Stiles to spill his release over Derek's fist.

"That was good." Stiles sank back into the mattress, chest heaving. When he glanced over to Derek, he found him still lying on his side, propped up on one elbow with Stiles' come still smeared over his now lax hand. And he was still hard.

"I don't know if you even can come," Stiles said and didn't know how he would feel if he found out that the shade indeed could come. It would most likely just be due to the stimulation, a physical response, but it would bring this whole thing to a new level of morally questionable.

Stiles thought about that for a moment and found that curiosity won over morally questionable.

"Let's find out if you can come," he decided. "There's lube in the nightstand. Finger me open."

Stiles had just come, it would take a while until he would be up for round two, so he let Derek take his time.

First, he told Derek to tease and probe his hole while he mouthed along the inside of Stiles' thigh.

"Put a finger in."

One finger after the other he let Derek open him up, with some nice attention to his prostate, until Stiles was hard again and writhing on the fingers fucking deep into him.

"Fuck me."

Stiles slung his arms and legs around him when Derek entered him and then he was just holding on for the ride.

"Fuck me until you come."

It didn't take long until Stiles wedged a hand between their stomachs. It took only a few strokes and he arched into Derek who hit his sweet spot just right and Stiles came a second time.

But Derek was still pumping in and out of him in a steady rhythm.

Stiles lay lax under him, enjoying the afterglow, but Derek kept hitting him right there and soon it was borderline on too much. It was possible that Derek would just fuck him until the spell ran out but Stiles wasn't giving up just yet.

He closed his legs around Derek again, crossing his ankles, and he worked with him with every thrust. Then Stiles buried his fingers in Derek's hair and brought their lips together for a bruising kiss.

Derek's rhythm faltered, he became more hectic.

"That's it, come." Stiles forced him deep with his heels on the small of his back and when Derek went rigid, he held him there.

When Derek finally slipped out, Stiles winced, his hole got abused a lot lately, but he was too wrung out to do more than roll to his side and to drag Derek with him.

Stiles fell asleep with Derek spooning him from behind.


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles wanted him to hold him so Derek did. With his arm around Stiles' middle, Stiles' back pressed to his chest, skin to skin, he held him close.

Derek buried his nose in Stiles' neck and inhaled his scent.


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles woke up alone. He stretched like a cat, enjoying the lazy feeling after a good fuck and a good night's sleep. There was dried come flaking off his stomach and the sticky feeling between his cheeks was just gross, he should really clean up after sex, but he was too comfy to do something about that just yet.

When he reached for his phone to check the time, it was just past eight, he found that he had two missed calls and a message from Scott.

"Shit." Stiles scrambled to a sitting position. He had promised to call and had totally forgotten about it. Most likely because he didn't really want to talk to Scott right now. He would have questions Stiles didn't have an answer to. But if he didn't call him, Scott would start a rescue mission.

"Stiles?" Scott answered after the first ring. He was a good guy but he was known to not pick up when he really should pick up so the fact alone that he had been waiting most likely with his phone in hand, was telling.

"Sorry." Stiles rubbed his eyes. "Totally forgot."

"I noticed," Scott said dryly. "You okay?" There was concern in his voice.

 _I almost died the other day and now I'm trying to deal with that by letting a shade fuck me_ , was on the tip of his tongue but instead, he said: "I'm fine."

Stiles could almost hear it when Scott rolled his eyes. But the good friend he was, Scott didn't call him out on the lie.

"Where are you?" Scott asked instead.

Stiles blinked at that question and then he laughed. It was just so ridiculous.

"Honestly?" He shook his head. "I have no fucking clue."

"Are you high?" Scott asked.

"After that thing with the water spirit I just drove," Stiles explained. "And then I stopped here for the night. There's a Nemeton here, not sure if it drew me in or if I just stopped here by coincidence."

"A Nemeton?" Scott perked up at that. "Do you need help? We can come over and …"

"No, Scott!" Stiles cut in before he could come up with a rescue plan. "It's not like ours, this one didn't get hurt. It's mostly sleeping, I think."

Scott's mind was on the Nogitsune, Stiles knew that. For some reason, he never understood that the Nemeton and the Nogitsune were two different things. Scott heard Nemeton and thought about possession. He was protecting the recovering tree in the preserve but more as an attempt to keep it under control than anything else. Stiles didn't have the heart to tell him how silly that idea was.

"Don't mess with it, then," Scott told him. "Leave it alone. In fact, you should get out of there as quickly as possible. Why don't you come home?"

That was a good question and Stiles didn't really have an answer to that. Absently he scraped the dried come off his stomach while he tried to think of an answer.

"I want to have a closer look, just to be sure," Stiles said and wasn't even sure if it counted as a lie. He did want to have a look around but the main reason was Derek.

Scott would not approve of the way he was using his shade.

But the sex was awesome and Stiles had slept through the night without nightmares and he really liked that.

Scott didn't like the idea of Stiles staying in this town but he had long learned that Stiles would do whatever he wanted anyway so he just told him to keep him updated and then they were talking about other things. Apparently, Kira had already read the manga Stiles had given her, she said thank you.

The next few minutes Stiles just listened to Scott talking about the little things happening at home. Isaac had won the fight over the last muffin Stiles had made and he had only broken his wrist in the progress. Malia and Boyd had needed hours to recover from that fight and they were still not talking to Isaac.

A few years ago Stiles would have been worried about Isaac, given his background physical fights had always been problematic, but he'd grown into his claws and fangs. Werewolves had freakish healing abilities so playful roughhousing more often than not ended with blood and broken bones.

Peter had assured them that it was normal werewolf behavior. Out in public werewolves had to keep a tight lid on their instincts, they had to keep themselves in control all the time so it was just natural to release some stress in the safety of the den.

So after they had ended the call, for which Stiles had to promise again to keep Scott updated, Stiles sent Isaac a message to congratulate him on the win of the muffin. And he sent messages to Boyd and Malia, asking if he had to come home to kiss it better.

Isaac answered with a grinning smiley, Malia sent him a rude picture of her hand and Boyd didn't even answer at all. He was most likely plotting his revenge.

The silly interaction with his pack did lift Stiles' mood. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the day but a shower seemed like a good start. He didn't summon the shade for some morning shower sex but when Stiles left the motel room half an hour later, it was with Derek on his heel.

When they entered the diner together, Jane greeted them with a warm smile.

They had missed the morning rush, there were only a few other patrons, just like Stiles had hoped. He still had a nervous look around and then headed for the booth in the far corner.

"Sit there," he ordered and Derek took his seat next to the window and with his back to the room. That way he would be mostly out of sight. Stiles sat down across from him so that he had the whole diner in view.

"You're way too paranoid," Jane told him once they were seated. "Nobody here is going to even bat an eye at two guys together."

Stiles had been busy scanning the diner to see if anybody had noticed something odd about Derek but now his attention snapped back to Jane.

"That's not …," he started but then he deflated with an embarrassed laugh. "Old habits."

He didn't want to know what that would add to the speculations the townspeople already had going about him. Them.

Especially since he'd first claimed that he was just passing through and now he was staying for no apparent reason at all. Hell, he didn't even know why he was still here. He should be back in Beacon Hills by now.

Jane filled their cups with coffee and handed them the menu. Derek didn't take the offered card, didn't even look at it, so after an awkward moment, Stiles took it for him.

"Sorry, he's not a morning person." Stiles fiddled with the menu before he placed it on the table in front of Derek.

"I noticed." She gave Derek an understanding smile who totally ignored her. Inwardly Stiles cringed, this was such a bad idea, but before he could say anything to explain Derek's antisocial behavior, Jane got called away.

Stiles let out breath the second they were alone again. But he didn't let himself be fooled, they were the outsiders, everybody in the diner was watching them. At least nobody was too obvious about it.

"This is such a bad idea," Stiles repeated and picked up his own menu. He had no idea what he was even doing here, why he even bothered with this charade to entertain the townspeople. Derek didn't even need to eat.

"Derek," Stiles said in a low voice. There was nobody close by so even normal spoken words wouldn't carry over the other guests but better safe than sorry. "When she comes back and asks for our order, you look at her and tell her: Just coffee, thanks."

Derek didn't react to the order, he was still looking at something at the wall somewhere over Stiles' left shoulder but Stiles knew that he would do as he was told.

Jane came back a moment later to take their order. Stiles held his breath but Derek delivered his line and even looked at Jane for a moment.

"It speaks." She acted surprised with coaxed a real smile out of Stiles. Derek stayed unimpressed and was back to staring at the wall behind Stiles.

"Sometimes," Stiles confirmed. "But like I said, not a morning person."

Stiles ordered breakfast for himself and he asked her to pack them some sandwiches for lunch.

"He's going to start whining for food around eleven," Stiles joked and hoped that would be enough to explain the second skipped breakfast. Why he even cared with such an explanation was beyond him but Jane just assured him that she would take care of it.

Derek hadn't touched his coffee, of course not, so Stiles told him to drink it in slow sips.

Stiles left the diner with a full belly followed by Derek with a bag with their sandwiches. They would last Stiles at least the whole day.

However, what to do with the day, Stiles had no idea. As far as he knew, the only things worth having a look at in this town were _Doug's Fish and Game_ and the small museum Edith had told him about.

The store was just down the street and since Stiles had already met Doug, he doubted there were more fishing enthusiastic Dougs around here, that was where he was heading next. The store was supposed to be the social hot-spot so if there was anything worth knowing going on in this town, Stiles would find it there. Besides, he was still interested in the Nemeton and its effects on the area around it and where else would he find information on the woods around here?

Stiles left the lunch package in the car but he did take Derek with him when he entered the store. After the diner Stiles just knew that it was a bad idea to take Derek with him but he couldn't dismiss him on the open street, people would notice the man evaporating in shadows, and if he left him in the car, chances were high that somebody would approach him. No, he better kept him at his side.

"Should have named you Silent Bob," Stiles muttered under his breath. But that would make him Jay and no … just no.

"Stiles," the man behind the counter greeted him. Like expected it was the old man Stiles had met at the diner the other day. "What brings you here? Don't tell me you want to give catching old Pete a shot. You might get lucky." He leaned over the counter and winked at Stiles. "But I see you already did get lucky. A fine man you got yourself there."

Stiles actually blushed at that.

"What brings you two to my store?" Doug saved him but he did have a curious eye on Derek. No wonder, he was standing a step behind, looming over Stiles' shoulder, but so far he hadn't said a word and he didn't show any sign that he'd even heard Doug's remark.

"Don't mind Derek." Stiles gestured at what looked like a man behind him. "He's the stoic one. Anyway, I was wondering what there is to know about the area around here. Beside old Pete."

Hot-spot or not, it was not even noon in the middle of the week, the store was almost empty. Doug did have time for a little chat.

"Heard you were out in the old woods already." Doug gave him a knowing look. "Be careful out there, people tend to get lost, especially if they're not from here."

"Don't worry, I know how to use a compass and Derek here is good at tracking," Stiles assured him but Doug didn't look convinced. Stiles didn't blame him but he could hardly tell him that if worse came worst he could just summon Superman to fly him out. But that was the last resort, Scott had called him Lois Lane for three weeks after the last and hopefully only time.

However, Doug gave him some good pointers and Stiles did spend the rest of the day out in the woods. He did find the lake where old Pete was supposed to live and for over an hour Stiles just sat at the end of the pier, with his feet in the water. It was a nice day, perfect for a swim but getting his feet wet was the most Stiles did tolerate at the moment. Seeing the lake had been almost enough to make him run in the other direction.

But sitting on the pier was okay. It was peaceful out here and when Stiles closed his eyes he could feel the Nemeton. The pull wasn't that strong here but Stiles felt its magic rippling through the lake.

He didn't see old Pete but he had no doubt that something old was living in this lake.

The visit to the lake had stirred some memories, he had almost drowned just a few days ago, so when Stiles fell asleep that night, it was in Derek's arms again.


	13. Chapter 13

In the middle of the night, Derek got up and used the bathroom. On his way back to bed, he caught a smell that made his stomach grumble. He ate the food he found in the fridge and used his tongue to get every last crumble out of the box. Then he licked his fingers clean before he went back to bed where he held Stiles for the rest of the night.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** _Early chapter this week but I have to skip next week, sorry._

* * *

Stiles woke with a headache.

He stumbled blindly to the bathroom, he just wanted to take a leak, down two painkillers and crawl back into bed to die. The bright light in the bathroom hurt his eyes so he just squinted at the bowl of the toilet and aimed in its general direction. But then he paused.

"Ewww," he made when he saw the already yellow water. "Must have forgotten to flush."

Stiles took care of his business, only half-heartily trying to figure out when he'd gotten up to take a piss over the night. He drew a blank but his head felt like he had cracked it open, and yes, he knew exactly how that felt.

Stiles flushed, washed his hands and then he tried to remember where he'd left his bag to get something for his head.

He had never been prone to migraines, at least not out of nowhere. But he hadn't hit his head and for sure he hadn't exhausted his magic so he guessed that this was just some old headache. He just hoped that the painkillers would do the trick and that he could sleep it off.

But then he stepped into something.

"What the …?" Stiles looked down but got hit by a wave of nausea and almost vomited on the box on the floor. The empty box. It took him a moment to remember the chicken nuggets he had gotten the other day but had never come around to actually eat.

Carefully Stiles turned to the small fridge and found the door ajar.

"Man, must I have been out of it." Stiles kicked the door shut and then went in search for his painkillers. "And I wasn't even drunk."

He had no memory of getting up over the night and for sure he didn't remember eating the whole box of chicken nuggets.

Stiles downed the pills with a glass of water and then carefully moved back to his bed.

Which wasn't empty.

Stiles stood there, blinking at Derek who was lying on his side, looking right back at him. Stiles blinked again, this had to be a hallucination, migraines did that sometimes, he had read about that somewhere, but no matter how often he blinked, Derek kept lying in his bed.

Stiles raised his hand in slow motion, not sure what to expect, and flicked his wrist. Derek evaporated in shadows and the blanket slowly collapsed when the body under it suddenly vanished. That detail was the one thing that convinced him that this wasn't a hallucination. His pain-ridden brain would have never come up with that detail on its own.

"At least that explains the headache," Stiles muttered and crawled under the still warm covers. He had never been able to hold a shade for longer than a few hours and now it looked like he had done it for the whole night.

Stiles fell asleep only moments later. When he woke up again, it was past noon and the headache had eased down to a dull throbbing in the back of his head. For a few minutes Stiles just lay there, his mind drifting, but then things came back to him.

He had held a shade for a whole night. Yesterday Stiles hadn't been sure if a shade even lasted past the moment he fell asleep. Okay, it came with a price, his head still hurt but he did it. A wide grin spread on his face. And who knew, with a bit of training he might even be able to hold a shade for that long without totally exhausting himself. At the moment Stiles was just lucky that he was in no immediate danger because he didn't have enough magic left for a party trick.

Eventually, Stiles did roll out of bed to brush his teeth and take a shower and after that, he did feel human again. He came out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair when he stepped into the empty box again. Now he did feel good enough to bend down and pick it up but when he was about to throw it in the trash, he paused.

He didn't recall eating the nuggets. He didn't recall getting up at night at all. And even if he somehow had demolished the whole box in his sleep, he for sure would have noticed that Derek was still in his bed when he'd crawled back in. There was no way that he had been so out of it that he hadn't noticed that the shade had still been there. No way.

The empty box still in hand Stiles sat down on his bed.

His shades didn't need to eat, they weren't that real. Stiles had told Derek to drink the coffee yesterday but that had only been for show.

Stiles' eyes fell on the bathroom door and he remembered the not flushed toilet.

"So what?" Stiles asked the empty room. "Derek took a piss and then ate the nuggets?"

That was insane. A shade didn't even have to actually breathe, it was just a final touch to make it look more real.

 _He bled when the mini-werewolf slashed his face_ , Stiles remembered.

If he was honest, Stiles had no idea how real he'd made Derek on the inside. But the usual two or three hours he normally was able to hold the spell, were too short to get hungry. At least for a human. Or any being. But Derek was a shade, he was a shadow with a pretty face. He couldn't get hungry and he couldn't digest food.

"He can produce semen," Stiles said aloud. "And he can orgasm and ejaculate."

Those were body functions as well. If his body could do one why not the other?

"Fuck." Stiles groaned but he was still clinging to the possibility that he had been sleepwalking. Maybe he had eaten the nuggets himself and just hadn't realized what it meant that Derek was still in bed with him. But he needed to know.

It took him two tries and he knew that he would only be able to hold the shade for a few minutes, if that, but then Derek stood in the middle of the room. Dressed in a long sleeve and jeans, he was standing there, waiting for orders.

"Did you eat the chicken nuggets?" Stiles asked. He had no idea if the shade even remembered previous manifestations, another thing he had never before thought about.

"Yes," Derek answered.

Stiles closed his eyes.

"Did you use the bathroom?" By now he knew the answer to that but he had to actually hear Derek's answer.

"Yes."

"Next time, flush!" Stiles yelled at him, his arms flailing but then he slumped in on himself. He had no idea what to do with this new development.

Derek just stood there for another minute and then he evaporated into shadows, leaving Stiles even more drained than before.

"Fuck!" Stiles threw the empty box through the room. At least he tried to. It made a sad half-loop and then dropped like a stone just a mere foot away. Figures. Stiles kicked it for good measure.

His first instinct was to never ever summon this specific shade again. If he wanted to have somebody to watch over him while he slept, he should go with Castiel, the angel was into that already.

But there lay the problem. Stiles hadn't tried to keep the shade all night. What if another form lasted that long? What if after a certain amount of time they got hungry or had to pee?

He had summoned Derek a lot lately. Maybe it was because of that. Or the Nemeton had something to do with it.

Fact was, Stiles had no idea what he was dealing with.

He spent the rest of the day on the internet. First, he was researching shades. There wasn't much to find there. They were formed by the caster's will and imagination, basically shadows pressed into a form for a specific task.

However, Stiles' magic had never followed the rules. He used his magic on a more intuitive level, more acting and reacting than following a specific ritual or spell. Deaton had still nightmares because of that, Stiles had no doubt.

Then Stiles researched the definition of life. He let himself get lost in that and by the time it got dark, he was engrossed in an article about life on Mars. Not exactly what he had been looking for but it was better than looking up the definition of a sentient being.

Stiles hadn't summoned Derek again and it would probably be for the best if he never summoned him ever again but in the end, curiosity won.

Stiles ordered Chinese. Enough to feed two people. He hadn't eaten all day so he could eat most of it himself if he had to, no problem.

When the food arrived, he set it up on the table and then he reached for the shady place. A second later Derek was sitting across from him.

"Okay, here goes nothing." Stiles took a deep breath. "Derek, are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to eat?"

"Yes."

Stiles gave him one of the containers and a pair of chopsticks and then he was just watching while the shade demolished the whole box. After that, he was eyeing another one but only reached for it when Stiles told him to. But the eyeing alone told Stiles enough to lose his appetite.

He wasn't sure how real Derek was but for sure he was real enough to have needs.

Derek was eating slower now and then he set the half-eaten container aside.

"Are you full?" Stiles asked.

"Yes."

Stiles chewed on some fried rice without really tasting anything but then he too set his container aside.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with you now?" Stiles asked.

Derek didn't answer. Rhetorical question, Stiles remembered, that order still stood.

Over the day Stiles had recovered but he knew that he didn't have enough magic to sustain Derek the whole night again. But he didn't want to dismiss him just yet either.

"Do you remember that I've summoned you before?" Stiles asked. Derek had kind of answered that one before by admitting that he'd eaten the nuggets but Stiles needed to make sure.

"Yes."

"What happened the first time I called you?" Stiles asked.

"You got attacked. By two werewolves." It was the most Derek had said so far. He didn't sound robotic but there were no emotions behind his words either. He was just stating facts.

"What about the time between the summonings? Do you remember that?"

"No."

As far as Stiles knew, the shades only existed during the time the spell lasted. So once the spell ran out and Derek evaporated into shadows, he simply stopped existing.

"I'm going to be sick." Stiles tasted bile in the back of his throat. He rushed to the bathroom and then he was hugging the bowl of the toilet while he spat out what little he had eaten of his dinner.

It wasn't just that Derek got hungry and ate, every microorganism did that, but he remembered things and was able to put them in words. Stiles didn't need to research that to know that those were signs of intelligence. Maybe even of a sentient being. Fuck.

When Stiles finally dared to come out of the bathroom, Derek was still sitting at the table.

Stiles busied himself with putting the leftovers in the fridge and then he took his seat across from Derek again.

"Just for the record," Stiles said after a long moment. "I never intended this to happen."

Derek didn't answer and didn't give any indication that he'd even heard what Stiles had said.

The spell lasted for another half an hour. It was the most awkward half an hour of Stiles' life. He had no idea what to do with Derek now.

Stiles didn't summon him, or any other shade, that night but he couldn't sleep anyway. He tossed and turned, debating with himself if he should call Deaton or Peter or maybe one of the witches he knew but in the end, he didn't call anybody and just spent half the night on the internet.

In the morning Stiles checked out, it was time to go back to Beacon Hills, back to his pack.

However, Edith didn't just let him leave, Stiles had to wait for her to make sandwiches for him and Derek.

"Where is he anyway?" Edith tried to not too openly peer out of the window.

"Sleeping in the car, most likely," Stiles lied, he just wanted to get out of here. "He's not a morning person."

Then he was finally on the road again. The seat next to him felt strangely empty but he refused to summon Derek. But he couldn't help glancing at the seat while his mind was running in circles.

That was why he didn't notice the deer until it was too late.

 _I'm becoming part of the statistic_ , was Stiles' last thought before the impact.

His world crashed and flipped and just before everything went dark, Stiles reached into the shady place.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N** _Like I said, there won't be a new chapter this weekend but depending on how the exam goes, there might be an update sometime next week_.

* * *

Save Stiles.

Derek had a quick look around. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air but it was coming more from the deer lying on the road than from Stiles. The jeep was on its side and Stiles was still in there, Derek could see him through the cracked front shield. He wasn't moving.

Save Stiles.

Derek ripped out the broken glass and reached for Stiles who was hanging in his seat, held by the seat belt.

Stabilizing his head and upper body, Derek slashed the belt with his claws and then he dragged Stiles out through the front window.

Save Stiles.

Stiles was breathing and not bleeding heavily but he wasn't conscious.

Derek cradled him in his arms and then he turned to where he could hear the noises of civilization in the distance.

Save Stiles.

Derek started walking.


	16. Chapter 16

Somebody shone a light into his eye. Stiles tried to close his eyes and turn away but the same somebody was holding him in place.

"Can you tell me your name?" A voice pierced through the fog in his head.

"Stiles," he answered. "Stiles Stilinski."

He still didn't know what was going on but this looked suspiciously like hospital. So when the question about his location came, he answered "hospital". How he got here he didn't know but he kind of remembered a deer. There were bits and pieces, the feeling of being carried, a car and a kind voice, but between the deer and the light in his eyes, Stiles didn't remember much.

At least the light was gone now, he noticed with a delay.

There must have been another gap in time because the next thing Stiles noticed was that he was lying in a bed that smelled like hospital but when he opened his eyes he was alone in the room. His head still hurt and his whole body was aching but not too badly.

"Looks like they gave me the good stuff," Stiles muttered to himself. Without moving too much, his head didn't like movement at all, hello concussion old friend, Stiles took inventory of his injuries. The concussion was a given but his neck wasn't in a brace and he was just lying in a normal bed so he most likely didn't crack his head or break his spine. Good to know.

His chest hurt but he didn't want to breathe too deeply anyway.

There were bandages on his forearms and around his left wrist but nothing to actually immobilize his wrist so probably not broken either. When he mentally got to his legs, however, Stiles found his left leg in what suspiciously felt like a cast. Fuck.

Stiles let his head drop back into the pillow and then he waited until the wave of nausea had passed. He might have drifted off a bit but he startled awake, when the door opened.

"You're awake," the woman in a white coat greeted him. She introduced herself as Dr. Esser and without prompting she confirmed that Stiles had been in a car accident, that he had a concussion, a few cracked ribs, a sprained wrist and a broken tibia but nothing too serious.

Of course, she did play twenty questions with him. And what was with that damn light? She seemed happy with the results, though, but she did want to keep him overnight.

"I'm sure your boyfriend would take good care of you but a motel room is not the right place to recover, am I right?" She gave him a warm smile. "At least not for the first night."

Stiles blinked at her while he tried to process what she had just said.

"My boyfriend?" He asked with a delay. "Motel … what?"

"Don't worry," she assured him. "It's normal if you don't remember the accident and what happened shortly after. Theo, he and his wife Edith are running the motel, he found your boyfriend carrying you back towards town. He brought both of you here."

"My boyfriend?" Stiles had no idea what she was talking about. But then he blurted out: "Derek?"

"He's fine," Dr. Esser assured him. "Not much of a talker but he refused to let you out of his sight."

Only now she had a look around the room, most likely searching for the other man.

"Haven't seen him in a while," she said but didn't ask farther.

Stiles was not in the mood to explain that one to her, especially since he was busy comprehending that apparently he had summoned Derek who then had carried him to safety. Every shade's first priority was Stiles' safety so that did make sense. The rest not so much.

Thinking made his head hurt even more so when Dr. Esser left, Stiles just sank back into the pillows with a sigh and succumbed to sleep.

He woke again to the smell of cherry pie. Without opening his eyes, he knew that he wouldn't like the bright light, Stiles crunched his nose to get rid of the smell. He had his fair share of concussions over the years and they did tend to fuck up his senses but never before had he hallucinated smells. And this one was a delicious one, it made his mouth water.

Finally, Stiles squinted his eyes open, bracing himself for the lances of pain the daylight for sure would case his scrambled brain. The discomfort wasn't nearly as bad as he had feared and he dared to fully open his eyes. Seeing that there wasn't any pie around would hopefully help his confused head to understand that the cake was a lie.

There was somebody sitting at his bedside.

Stiles tried to focus on her but it took a moment for his blurry vision to clear enough to make out the features of the elderly woman.

"Hey there." She put aside her knitting needles and leaned in to have a better look at him. It took Stiles a long moment to place her face. The owner of the motel.

"Edith? What are you doing here?" His words came out slurred and Stiles smacked his too dry lips to work up some moisture.

"Here, have some water." In a motherly fashion, she offered him a glass of water and even supported his back with a firm hand when he struggled to sit upright enough for some sips.

"I just came here to tell you that your car is in the garage." She put the glass away and helped him back into a lying position. "Theodore took care of that. He brought your things back to the motel, they're waiting in your room for you. Vivian said you'll be free to leave tomorrow but I figured Derek would like a real bed better than a chair in a hospital." She wiggled a bit in her chair. "I wouldn't recommend these."

Stiles just blinked at her, this was too much to process at the moment.

"Anyway, I know the food in here so I brought you some pie." She pointed at something on the nightstand but Stiles would have to crane his neck to have a look and he opted against it. "Fresh out of the oven, but you don't look as if you're up for anything solid just yet." She patted his hand. "One slice is for Derek, you better share with him." She gave him a stern look which lost its effect in the combination with the warm smile on her lips. "Where is he, anyway? Vivian said he was here earlier but I haven't seen him."

Stiles gave her a confused look, still trying to comprehend the flood of information. Derek, she was asking about Derek.

"Calls," Stiles blurted out the first thing coming to mind. "He wanted to make some calls." That made sense, right? If your boyfriend was in the hospital you wanted to make some calls. Inform the family and all that.

"I think," Stiles added after a moment because he was the one with a concussion in a hospital bed, what the hell did he know?

Edith accepted that explanation without questions.

"If I don't see him, tell him that he has a place to sleep, would you?" She picked up her knitting again. "And he should check in with Bobby to see about your car. The garage is at the gas station, you can't miss it."

Stiles doubted that he would even remember half of what she was saying later but he promised to tell Derek.

Edith stayed for half an hour longer and by the end, Stiles was even up to eating some pie. He didn't manage the whole slice but he didn't throw it up right away either so he called it a win. Edith wrapped the leftovers back up for later.

"I should go," Edith said with a glance at the time. "Theo gets grumpy when he doesn't get his dinner." She stuffed her knitting in her bag and then stood. "If Derek needs a ride to the motel later, just give us a call, Theo will pick him up. Same for you tomorrow, don't be shy, just call."

Stiles promised to do so and then she was gone.

"Fuck." Stiles dropped back into his pillow, causing the pain in his head and chest to flare up.

"Fuck," he repeated for good measure.

Edith's visit had left him drained but since he was alone now, he did reach into the shady place. After two attempts Derek was sitting in the chair next to his bed. He didn't like it but Stiles feared that the people around here would start a search and rescue mission if they didn't see Derek soon.

"Since you're here, you can help me with the pain." Stiles held out his hand which Derek took. A moment later black lines were creeping up his forearm and Stiles let out a relieved sigh.

Stiles did, however, break the contact when not much later the door opened and Dr. Esser came in.

"Oh," she made when she saw Derek. "Didn't see you coming in."

"He gets that often," Stiles said. His head felt light and he might be a bit high from the painkillers and the supernatural pain drain. "He's a creeper, just popping up out of nowhere." He snickered over his own joke but sobered up rather quickly to swallow against the bile rising up in his throat. For a moment he was just fighting the wave of nausea and when Dr. Esser put something in his hand to use if he really needed to throw up, he just clung to it until he had his breathing under control again.

"I'm good," he finally managed to say.

She hmmed to that and then there was that damn pen light again. But at least her attention was on Stiles and not on Derek. She checked him over and asked the usual questions but seemed satisfied with the results.

"Try to get some sleep." She put the light back into her pocket. "And don't hesitate to press the call button if you need something."

She wished them a good night and then she left the room.

Stiles hadn't even noticed how late it was by now but sleep did sound like a good idea. He probably should call Scott, if they drove through the night, his pack could be here sometime tomorrow to pick him up. But for one, Stiles was too tired and he didn't know where his phone was anyway and second, he didn't even want to think about what would happen if or better when somebody around here mentioned Derek to Scott. Stiles had a concussion, he felt miserable and he really didn't want to explain Derek to his best friend.

So Stiles just reached for Derek's hand again and put off the big decisions for tomorrow.

When he woke up, the room was dark and the chair next to him empty. It had been a miracle that he had been able to focus enough to summon Derek in the first place, he hadn't expected him to last the whole night but seeing the empty chair twisted something in his chest.

But that was something to deal with once he could think clearly again. So Stiles shook off the dark thoughts without actually shaking his head and reached for the glass on the nightstand. Only to find it empty, figures.

When he searched for the light switch to see if there was a pitcher somewhere around, Stiles' hand brushed against something he couldn't quite place.

The light came to life and once Stiles' eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness he noticed two things. There was no pitcher, just his empty glass which he didn't finish earlier, he was sure of that. And the tin foil in which Edith had wrapped the pie earlier. Now it was ripped open and as far as Stiles could tell, there weren't even crumbs left.

Stiles felt tears dwell up in his eyes, it was just too much. His head hurt, breathing hurt, his leg was in a cast and Derek had eaten the pie. The whole situation was just fucked up and he had no idea how to deal with any of this. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to let his pack cuddle all the worries out of him and pamper him while he was injured. He would even take the lecture Scott for sure had waiting for him once he heard about the accident. And about Derek.

But he was alone, his pack didn't even know that he was in the hospital.

Stiles couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He just needed somebody to be there.

Suddenly the mattress dipped and somebody stretched out next to him.

Stiles froze. He hadn't even noticed that he'd summoned Derek and that in and of itself was worrying. Aside from the whole pie eating thing and the fact that he hadn't told Derek to climb into bed with him.

But then Derek reached for him and Stiles buried his face in his chest, just clinging to him.


	17. Chapter 17

Stiles must have cried himself to sleep. He woke with his face feeling hot and blotchy, his eyes crusty and his mouth even drier than before. Along with a headache but that could just be his concussion.

However, he was lying with his head pillowed on Derek's chest with Derek's arm loosely around his hip so his headache might be because of magical exhaustion. Probably all of the above.

Stiles groaned and rubbed his face against the fabric of Derek's t-shirt to get more awake. Or more comfortable. Derek's pecs made a nice pillow. The chest under him rose and fell in a steady rhythm, almost soothing enough to lull him back to sleep. But then he noticed the noise.

For a second he couldn't place it, aside from Derek he was alone in the room after all, but then he shot upright.

He almost vomited on Derek, his head did not like sudden movements, but then the nausea was forgotten. Stiles just stared at Derek. The sleeping Derek. He was snoring.

"No, no, no," Stiles muttered but the words came out barely a whisper. Not loud enough to wake the alpha werewolf who shouldn't be able to sleep in the first place.

"I'm dreaming," Stiles decided. "I have a concussion and this is a dream. Some weird shit." The words rasped over his dried out throat, still not loud enough to wake the werewolf.

It wasn't a dream, Stiles knew that. Derek was sleeping.

Stiles first instinct was to dismiss him. Or should he wake him? Wait until he woke on his own? Biting his bottom lip Stiles tried to think clearly through his headache, it had gotten worse over the last minute, but he had no idea what to do with the situation.

He was still debating with himself when the door opened.

Instantly Derek's eyes snapped open and he lifted his head to look at the nurse, entering the room.

She stopped dead in the doorway but her stern look melted at the sight of them together in bed. At least Derek was fully dressed and lying on top of the covers, Stiles doubted she would approve of funny business under the covers.

"Don't let Dr. Esser see you like this," she said and hurried to close the door.

Stiles agreed, he really didn't want to draw more attention to Derek than necessary. He shifted his position to give Derek room to sit up but there was not much room, this bed was not made for two people.

"Sit in the chair, would you?" Stiles poked Derek in the side to get him going, not that it was necessary, Derek followed his order immediately, but even concussed Stiles tried to make the order not sound like an order. On his own, Derek would have just stayed where he was. Except when there was food around. Or he had to use the bathroom. And hell if Stiles knew if he had actually told Derek to lie with him.

"How do you feel?" The nurse had sneaked up on him while his mind had been somewhere else but now he tried to focus on her.

"Head hurts," he said and licked his dry lips. "And can I get some water, please?"

"Sure thing." She checked his pulse and blood pressure and noted it down in his chart.

"It's a bit high," she said and with a glance at Derek, she winked at Stiles. "No surprise there."

"That's not … we were not …" Stiles gestured between himself and Derek but then he pointed at the nurse. "You startled me!"

She just laughed at that.

"I'll bring you some water." Still chuckling she left the room.

"Just fucking great." Stiles dropped back into the pillow. Now his chest and even his arms hurt as well. "Fuck!"

A hand sneaked in his and instantly the pain abated.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked without looking at Derek. He didn't need to see the black lines creeping up his forearm to know they were there.

"Taking your pain," Derek answered.

"Why?"

"You are in pain."

There was no arguing with that logic and if he was honest, Stiles didn't care. Thinking was not his strong suit at the moment and he doubted that he was ready for a mental breakdown just yet.

"Don't let anybody see the black lines on your arm," Stiles told him and just enjoyed the floating feeling. This was better than any painkiller.

Derek broke contact seconds before the door opened.

The nurse brought water, painkillers and the news that Dr. Esser would have a look at him soon and that he should be good to go in the afternoon.

Stiles took the pills and drank a whole glass of water before he stretched out again. He still didn't know where his phone was so he couldn't call Scott or anybody else, which was just fine with him. He was content with just lying here for a moment longer.

The second the nurse was gone, Derek took his hand again.

"This is nice," Stiles told him. Of course, that was the moment Derek evaporated in shadows. Stiles let out a long, suffering sigh but didn't summon him again right away. He had summoned him way too often lately.

Stiles tried to find his way back to sleep but there was pressure building up in his bladder which he could only ignore for so long. Stiles cursed under his breath. He didn't want to use the bottle. Again. But he didn't want a nurse to help him to the bathroom either, he was not that helpless.

Making up his mind, he came up to a sitting position and then carefully lowered his legs over the edge of the bed. The one in the cast stuck out and he wouldn't be able to walk on it but he could deal with that. They were ready to kick him out of the hospital so he had to be ready to get to the bathroom on his own.

Stiles breathed through the moment of dizziness and then he had a look around. There were crutches by the window. Most likely for him to use after the kicking out thing but deliberately out of reach now.

Stiles just smiled to himself and focused on the crutches. Concussions and magic didn't go together well but well enough for a little party trick.

"Accio crutches," he said just because and then he almost fell off the bed in his attempt to catch the flying crutches without getting hit in the face. He straightened himself up, at least there was nobody here to laugh at him, and then he came up to a wobbly one-leg stand. His broken leg started to throb when the blood rushed downwards but as long as he wasn't putting weight on it, it was okay.

"Better than I thought." Stiles tightened the grip on the crutches and made a step forward. He had almost forgotten about his sprained wrist but now it came to life screaming. Stiles gritted his teeth and made another step.

His wrist gave and then the floor was coming closer really fast.

Stiles went down with a yelp, bracing himself for the impact but it was not just his body, trying to prevent the crash, he reacted with magic as well.

With his eyes screwed shut Stiles waited for the impact that never came. After what felt like an eternity Stiles dared to blink open one eye. He was still looking at the floor, his crutches were already down there, just waiting for him to join them but he was not moving. For a second Stiles was convinced that he'd just mastered the art of flying Douglas Adams style but then he noticed the strong arm under his chest, holding him in position. There was a body attached to that arm.

"Okay, big guy. You can let me up now." Stiles reached blindly for Derek's shoulder to get into a more vertical position. With his free hand Derek helped Stiles up and then he guided him backwards until Stiles dropped on the bed.

Catching his breath Stiles just sat there. His wrist was throbbing along with his head and his everything. And on top of all that he still needed to pee.

"Give me my crutches."

With one crutch and his injured arm over Derek's shoulder, Stiles made it over to the bathroom. Derek took most of his weight, hell, he would just carry him over if Stiles told him to, and still, Stiles was panting and sweating by the time he was sitting on the toilet. And he still had to get back to bed somehow.

"Wait outside," Stiles told Derek once he was sure that he wouldn't pass out. "And close the door."

Doing his business, Stiles had a moment to think. They were kicking him out of the hospital today and until he got his hands on a phone and informed his pack, which would need at least a day to get to him, he would be stuck in a motel room. Alone.

He didn't want to keep Derek around, he really didn't. He had created something here and he had no idea how to deal with it. With Derek. Because Derek had stopped being a simple shade quite a while ago. Now he was eating and sleeping and he was doing things Stiles hadn't told him to do.

"I need help." Stiles slumped down in defeat.

The door opened and Derek stood in the frame, watching him closely.

"Whoa." Stiles almost fell from the toilet in his attempt to cover himself up. "Give a guy some privacy."

"You said you need help," Derek said and didn't move an inch.

For a moment Stiles just stared at him but then he shrugged. It wasn't as if Derek hadn't seen him naked before. The other day Derek had his tongue up his ass, one couldn't get more intimate.

So Stiles finished his business and then he motioned for Derek to help him back to bed.

They were halfway across the room when Dr. Esser came in.

"I see you're up," she said and watched with interest until Stiles was sitting safely on the bed again. "How do you feel?"

"Like crap." Stiles had to use his good hand to get his casted leg onto the bed. Catching on, Derek helped him. "But I'm good to go?" He added hopefully.

A motel room wouldn't be much of an improvement but he wouldn't have to worry about Derek evaporating into shadows in front of people. Plus, he really had some thoughts to think, research to do and people to call. Not necessarily in that order but Derek was something he couldn't ignore any longer. Someone he couldn't ignore any longer. And that was the problem.

Dr. Esser checked him over one last time and gave him instructions on how to use the crutches, his wrist should tolerate it in a bit but he shouldn't overdo it, but it looked as if he had figured it out on his own already.

"You're in good hands with him," she said to Stiles while she gave Derek a warm smile.

"The best," Stiles agreed but felt sick in the stomach.

Dr. Esser was about to leave when there was a knock at the door and then Theodore came in.

"Ah, Vivian," he greeted the doctor and a moment later he had her in a one-armed hug. "He good to go?" He nodded at Stiles who only now remembered that he had been supposed to call Edith. He could have told her to bring some fresh clothes, he didn't have anything here.

"He's all yours." Dr. Esser patted Theodore on the shoulder and then left them alone.

"Does everybody here knows everybody?" Stiles muttered and couldn't help but wonder if his doctor had called Theodore. Or Edith had called her, that sounded more likely.

"Vivian and my Ellen are best friends. Since kindergarten." He closed the door and then set a bag on the foot of the bed.

Stiles deducted daughter, Edith had mentioned kids but at the moment Stiles wasn't sure if she had used names, but his attention was on the bag anyway.

"What's that?"

"Some of your stuff." Theodore put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet a few times. "Since you." He nodded at Derek. "Preferred to stay here instead of sleeping in a perfectly fine bed, my wife got you some of your clothes to wear."

Stiles didn't know how he felt about the fact that somebody had been through his stuff but he was glad that he didn't have to leave the hospital in the gown he was currently wearing.

Half an hour later Stiles left the hospital in a wheelchair, with Derek wheeling him out, and then Theodore was driving them back to the motel.


	18. Chapter 18

They had the same room as before. It had been cleaned and there were fresh sheets on the beds and Stiles hoped that Edith had cleaned out the fridge as well. He vaguely remembered, putting the leftover Chinese in there. Stiles didn't know why that came back to mind now but it was better than thinking about the fact that he was hobbling into the room on one crutch and with his other arm over Derek's shoulder.

Theodore followed them with the other crutch and the bag which still contained some of Stiles' clothes along with his medication. The rest of his stuff was waiting on the far bed. His bag looked just like he remembered and not as if it had been in a car accident lately. Which reminded him that he had to at least call the garage to find out how bad his car was damaged.

With Derek's help, Stiles sat down on the first bed.

"Don't bother with dinner later," Theodore told him while he handed over the second crutch. "Edith is making something."

"That's not …" Stiles started but Theodore shut him up with a stern look.

"Don't bother," he said, shaking his head. "Edith has decided to mother you and since you can't run …" He gestured at Stiles' leg which he had stretched out on the bed. "If you need something, anything, just call the front desk. Or send Derek over."

He gave Derek a nod, who just stood next to the bed without even looking at the other man.

"Thanks, Theodore," Stiles hurried to say to gloss over Derek's non-existing social skills. For a second he wondered if people already thought that Derek was autistic or something like that.

"Just Theo, please." Theo rubbed the back of his head. "Theodore is what Edith calls me when she's mad at me."

Stiles couldn't help but laugh at that. This whole situation was just ridiculous.

After he'd made sure that Stiles had everything he needed for now, Theo left them alone.

The second they were alone, Derek reached for him to take his pain again. With Stiles sitting on the bed and him standing, the best reachable patch of bare skin was Stiles' neck, though.

"What are you …?" Stiles started but didn't finish the question when he felt his throbbing headache dissolving into nothingness. Derek's warm palm on the tense muscles of his neck felt nice too. Stiles closed his eyes and let himself sag more into Derek's hand.

Then Derek started to move his hand. He dug his fingers into Stiles' neck, gently rubbing circles into the short hair there.

Stiles knew that he should stop this, Derek was not his personal masseur and he should not take advantage of him like this but instead of telling him to stop, Stiles turned a bit to give him better access.

Derek understood the silent invitation, order, and put his other hand on Stiles' neck as well. Gently but with a firm grip, he started to knead the tense muscles.

"Damn." Stiles breathed out which sounded suspiciously like a moan. He was still on painkillers and Derek hadn't stopped with the pain drain either and now all the tension just melted out of him.

Behind him, Derek put a knee on the bed and a moment later Stiles was leaning into the line of his body.

At first, Derek only worked on his neck and shoulders but after a while, he was working his way down Stiles' arms. Minding his injured wrist and other tender spots.

By now Stiles was half asleep.

Stiles snapped awake when Derek ran his hands along the insides of his thighs.

"Derek, stop!" Stiles yelled and struggled to come up to a more sitting position but he was trapped between Derek's body behind him and his arms bracketing him in. And Derek's hands were still more in his crotch than anywhere else. His fingers were basically framing the bulge in Stiles' pants.

"What do you think you're doing?" Stiles asked and he very deliberately did not look at the lower part of his body where his boner refused to go down.

"Helping you relax," Derek said. He was so close behind him, his body a solid wall in Stiles' back, that his breath tickled his ear. Or maybe it was Derek's stubble.

"I did not ask for a happy ending," Stiles squeaked, his voice toppling over. He tried to squirm out of Derek's hold but with that, he only made the problem worse. When his erection brushed against Derek's hand, Stiles shied back, pressing himself more firmly into Derek's body behind him. Only to involuntarily grind against a hard line which could only be Derek's own erection.

Stiles froze. His brain just shut down and he had no idea how to proceed.

He should tell Derek to let go of him. He should dismiss him. But he did nothing. He just stayed in his half sitting position with Derek's erection in his back and Derek's hands almost on top of his own.

"Please," Derek said and rolled his hips against him.

It wasn't even a conscious decision, Stiles flicked his wrist and then he almost hit his head on the headboard when he fell through the swirling shadows where Derek had been a second ago.

Panting Stiles lay on his back, his casted leg on the bed, the other one still on the floor and his boner rapidly shriveling down in his pants.

His mind stayed numb for a minute longer but then it kicked into overdrive.

Derek had tried to initiate something sexual here.

He had said _please_.

Derek had done things on his own before but this had been the first time he'd ask for something.

Stiles had no idea what to do with that.

But then something occurred to him.

"Son of a bitch."

In his mind he replayed their conversation, weighting Derek's words. He wasn't sure but it was quite possible that Derek had lied to him. Bent the truth. Something like that. Maybe.

Stiles still had no clue how to deal with the rest but he needed to know. Now.

A moment later Derek was standing in the middle of the room. He was wearing the same jeans and shirt as before. And he was still hard in his pants.

Stiles tore his eyes off Derek's crotch, this was not the time to get distracted by that.

"Derek, when I ask you what you were doing, you said that you're helping me relax …" Stiles licked his lips, searching for the right words. "Was that the only reason?"

Derek lowered his eyes.

"No," he admitted, his voice softer than usual. There were almost emotions in his words. Hell, cross the almost. Not taking his eyes off Derek Stiles swung his leg over the edge of the bed and came up to a sitting position.

"Did you do it for yourself as well?" Stiles asked.

Eyes fixed on the floor, Derek jerked his head in a nod and then, after a moment, as if he only then remembered that he was supposed to give a verbal answer, he added: "Yes." And after another beat: "I'm sorry."

Those words punched the air out of Stiles' lungs.

And Derek just stood there with his head bowed, looking miserable. Stiles just wanted to hug him, desperately, but with his broken leg, he would only manage to face plant on the floor if he tried to get over to him.

"Come here." Stiles patted the mattress next to him.

Derek hurried to sit down and then he was just sitting there, still looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

"I'm not mad," Stiles felt the need to say. "You did nothing wrong."

Derek didn't answer to that but the tension visibly melted out of his shoulders.

"If you need or want something, you can ask for it." Stiles reached for him and then hesitantly, waiting for his reaction, he put his hand on Derek's forearm. "Is there something you need now? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"No."

However, there was something in his posture.

Derek was a werewolf, Stiles remembered. Stiles had been living in a pack for years now, he knew what made a werewolf tick.

"Lie with me," Stiles said and of course Derek immediately moved to follow his order. Instead of dwelling on that, Stiles arranged his battered body in a way that didn't hurt too much and left enough room for Derek to stretch out next to him.

"You can touch me if you want," Stiles said. Lying on their sides their faces were only inches apart.

Hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure if it was really okay, Derek put his hand on the ball of Stiles' shoulder.

"You can scent me." Stiles bared his throat in an invitation. "If you want."

Derek didn't hesitate this time. He buried his nose in Stiles' neck. His hand slipped to Stiles' back, holding him close.

"There you go." Stiles hugged him back and tried really hard to ignore the needy noises Derek was making while he nuzzled Stiles' neck.

For an awkward moment Stiles didn't know where to put his hands, he didn't want to make Derek uncomfortable and that on itself was a scary thought, but then he opted for his injured arm loosely over Derek's middle and with the other one he cupped the back of his head, to show him that it was okay to scent him as long as he wanted.

This was for Derek but Stiles remembered the other times they had been in bed together. Those times had purely been for Stiles. He had used Derek's body like a cheap toy, as if he was just a doll he could use for his own pleasure. Granted a very realistic doll but still a doll. Just a thing.

Stiles didn't know for how long Derek had been aware. He had been just a shade in the beginning, Stiles was sure of that, but over the last few days he had become more. Rapidly. The last ten minutes were proof of how fast Derek was … what? Developing a personality? Becoming sentient?

"I'm sorry," Stiles said. Derek was still nuzzling his throat but he seemed more content now. "The things I did to you … I'm so sorry."

Derek didn't answer, Stiles wasn't even sure if he understood what Stiles had done to him, was still doing to him. And how fucked up was it that rape wasn't even the worst thing on the list? Rather sooner than later Derek would just stop existing and it fully depended on Stiles if he ever came back into existence. Stiles could just simply choose to never summon him again.

And while he was here, Derek was bound to Stiles. He had to do whatever Stiles told him to do. He would kill himself if that was what Stiles wanted. And then Stiles could summon him again and make him do it again. How sick was that? Not that Stiles intended to do something like that but he could and that was just wrong.

Derek might not realize it, yet, but he was a slave. No, worse. A slave could fight back, a slave could run away. Derek didn't have those options. His sole existence depended on Stiles.

Lost in those thoughts it took Stiles a moment to notice that Derek wasn't just inhaling his scent any longer. He had switched to little licks and kisses and he even had one hand in Stiles' hair to angle his head for better access.

Stiles snapped back to what was happening here, which apparently was Derek making out with him.

"Derek, stop." Stiles tried to get some distance between them but Derek was still holding him close.

"You smell bad," Derek stated.

"I was in an accident, I didn't shower in a while." Stiles defended himself but he knew that Derek wasn't talking about that. Stiles didn't want to know what his thoughts had done to his scent.

Instead of an answer, Derek brought their lips together.

Stiles was too stunned to do anything but damn, Derek was a good kisser and it didn't take long for Stiles to kiss back.

"It's okay, I'm good." Stiles cupped Derek's cheek to keep him at a distance. He didn't want this to escalate, he would hate himself later if he took advantage of Derek like this. "But I have a concussion, a broken leg, and a sprained wrist. Among other things. Let's just lie like this for a while, okay?"

Stiles was pretty sure that he sounded as desperate as he felt but Derek didn't comment on that and just stretched out next to him again. And then, as if he wasn't sure if he was still allowed to, Derek put his hand on Stiles' shoulder again.


	19. Chapter 19

Derek was lying in bed with Stiles. That had been an order so Derek was lying here with one hand on Stiles' shoulder but otherwise not touching. Stiles didn't want him to. A minute ago Stiles did have wanted him to and now Derek waited if he wanted him to again.

Stiles was restless, his heart-beat was all over the place and it was telling Derek other things than Stiles was saying with his words. Same with his scent. There were too many emotions in there, Derek couldn't make sense of this mess.

When Stiles had smelled too bad, Derek had tried to make it better and it had worked, for a moment, but then Stiles had told him to stop. So Derek had stopped.

Stiles was giving him so many mixed signals, Derek didn't know what to make out of those.

Suddenly Stiles' phone started to ring.

"Is that mine?" Stiles propped himself up on one elbow and had a look around. The night-stand was on Derek's side, the ringing came from there. "Give it to me."

That was a clear order. Derek hurried to give him his phone and almost knocked the keys lying next to it over the edge. Once he had handed Stiles the phone, Derek put the keys back where they belonged. Stiles' wallet was lying half on top of the foot of the lamp so he straightened that as well.

Since there had been no new order and Stiles' attention was on the person he was talking to, Derek settled back and waited.

Stiles' scent went sour again and his heart was skipping a beat here and there, beating way too fast.

"I know I should have called," Stiles said. "I'm fine, no need to send the cavalry. It's just the last job, it was tough." Stiles paused but the person at the other end didn't speak either. "I … I almost died."

"Stiles," the other person said and his emotions were clear even over the phone. "What happened?"

Stiles looked over at Derek and there was something in his expression that made Derek reach over and take his hand. It was the one with the bandaged wrist and Derek felt the dull throbbing of pain under the skin. He laced their fingers together and took Stiles' pain. At least this was easy.

"Doesn't matter." Stiles shook his head. "I'm alive, I'm fine. I just need a few days."

"Why don't you come home?"

Stiles' breath hitched and his emotions hit Derek in waves, sour and bad.

"I have to work through this alone." Stiles squeezed Derek's hand. "I just need a few days."

He finished the call, threw the phone to the foot end of the bed and then stretched out again. Derek followed his lead and then they were lying side by side again.

Stiles smelled as if he had done something wrong, as if he was sorry. As if somebody was mad at him.

That Derek understood. He knew how that felt.

He wound his hand out of Stiles' and reached out to cup the back of his head. He tried to move him closer but Stiles just stared at him and didn't move. Derek angled his head just like Stiles had done earlier but Stiles still didn't move. If anything, he was pushing in the other direction, away from Derek.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, his heart beating rapidly and his emotions clogging Derek's nose. For a moment Derek thought that he had done something wrong again but Stiles just studied him, waiting for an answer.

Derek didn't know how to put it in words, it was more a feeling than anything else. All he could do was to bare his throat and repeat the words Stiles had said earlier: "You can scent me if you want."


	20. Chapter 20

Stiles hadn't noticed his things on the night-stand until his phone started ringing. At least he hadn't lost his keys and wallet, he most likely had Edith to thank for that.

It was Scott calling him, of course it was, and he was ready to send the cavalry.

Stiles had been on his way back to Beacon Hills, to his pack, but now he didn't want to see them. He didn't want them to see Derek, he corrected in his mind. Not yet. Not until he'd figured this out.

Scott had never really understood how Stiles' magic worked, hell, Stiles himself had no clue what he was doing most of the time, so Stiles knew exactly what his alpha would tell him to do. Never summon Derek ever again and most likely to keep his hands off shades entirely, just to be sure.

Stiles glanced over at Derek who was just lying there but his eyes were on Stiles and he was flaring his nostrils, not so subtly scenting the air.

Stiles loved Scott but he was a black and white kind of guy while Stiles lived in the grays. And Derek was deep in gray territory.

So Stiles made up some bullshit about needing time to recover from his latest near-death experience, the drowning one not the roadkill one because if Scott knew that he had been in the hospital and was now alone in a motel room with a concussion and a broken leg, the whole pack would be here by tomorrow.

And what was his life that he had near-death experiences to pick from?

Stiles managed to get Scott off his back, for now, and after he'd ended the call, he threw the phone to the end of the bed before he dropped back into the pillow. He still had no idea what to do with the situation and on top of that, he'd just lied to Scott, kind of, which would bite him in the ass later, he just knew that.

Over the call, Derek had taken Stiles' hand and Stiles could only guess what he had picked up from the conversation or more likely from his scent and posture. Stiles would never tell Scott that to the face but werewolves were a lot like dogs when it came to sensing emotions. And they had the same need to make it better.

However, now Derek let go of his hand and instead reached higher. Curious of what he would do, Stiles stayed very still but when it became clear that Derek was cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, Stiles pushed in the other direction.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked but it was clear where this was going. Back to kissing. Which was nice, he couldn't deny that Derek was an awesome kisser, but wrong on way too many levels.

Derek tilted his head but not in a _let's kiss_ way.

"You can scent me if you want," Derek said and again urged him closer. Blindsided by that answer Stiles let himself get pressed against Derek, his nose in the hollow of Derek's neck.

But instead of scenting him, Stiles burst into giggles.

"Did I worry you?" Stiles asked but made no attempt to bring some distance between them. This was nice.

"You smell bad," Derek said but did let him come up when Stiles propped himself up on his good arm to look at him.

Earlier when Derek had been miserable, Stiles had said the same to him but he wasn't sure if Derek had just mimicked him or if he really understood what he'd been offering.

Stiles looked him in the eye and the vacant look was completely gone, Derek was actually looking back at him, but it was hard to tell what was really going on in his head.

"I'm good now, thank you," Stiles said and had no idea what to do next. They were still lying way too close.

He was saved by a knock at the door.

"Open the door," Stiles told Derek who smoothly rolled out of the bed and was at the door a second later.

For some reason Stiles expected Scott to be standing there but it was Edith who tried to peek past Derek.

"Edith." Stiles hurried to scramble into a more sitting position. "Come in."

"You settled in alright?" She asked with a look around. His stuff was still on the other bed, the only thing he'd settled into was the bed but Stiles gave her a "yes, thank you" nevertheless.

"Are you guys hungry?" She looked from Stiles to Derek. "You should join us for dinner." She paused, a considering eye on Stiles' injured leg. "Or I can bring something over if you're not up to that yet. Vivian said you shouldn't overdo it for a while."

It was tempting to just stay in bed but Stiles knew himself, left to its own his brain would just go into overdrive and he would stay up all night with his thoughts running in circles. He most likely would do that anyway but a little distraction sounded nice.

So ten minutes later he and Derek were sitting in Edith's kitchen.

Whatever she had in the oven smelled delicious and the way Derek perked up, sniffing the air, he was hungry. But that also reminded Stiles of the fact that this was a bad idea. Up close like this Edith and Theo, who just came in to join them, had to notice that Derek wasn't quite right. And thinking about it, Stiles had no idea for how long Derek would last. He was not up to one hundred percent yet, physically and magically, he didn't know when Derek would just evaporate into shadows. He hadn't summoned him that long ago so maybe they would be lucky, though.

"I didn't know if you were up for food just yet so I made something you can easily heat up tomorrow," Edith said almost as an excuse when she put a steaming casserole on the table.

Stiles couldn't make out what was under the cheese crust but everything with a thick cheese crust could only be good.

Edith filled their plates while Theo filled their glasses and then they dug in. Stiles held his breath but Derek grabbed his fork and started to eat on his own.

"Good?" Edith asked when her guests started to stuff their faces.

"Awesome," Stiles said, puffing around a hot mouthful of goodness. He had already burned the tip of his tongue but this was too delicious.

Edith gave him a motherly smile and then they were eating in silence.

When she offered seconds, Stiles accepted happily. Derek looked at Stiles first and only when he got the silent okay from him, he offered his plate for more as well.

Edith and Theo both watched the silent exchange with interest. Stiles was well aware of that but there was nothing he could do about it.

"I know it's not my place to ask," Edith started when they had slowed down and had relaxed more into their chairs. "But you and Derek …"

Stiles stopped chewing. He had known that this would come, these were nice people but he was basically a stranger. They. Of course, there would be questions.

"... are you on the run?" She finished her sentence. "From someone?"

Stiles choked on the bite still in his mouth and he had to wash it down with half a glass of apple juice. Next to him, Derek was watching him intensely, probably waiting for the moment he had to start CPR.

"Why would you think that?" Stiles asked once he had forced the bite down without suffocating. But his mind was racing. He had come here bruised and battered, he himself had made the comparison to a victim of abuse.

Edith and Theo exchanged a look, both clearly uncomfortable.

"You don't know where you're heading and you just decided to stay in a sleepy town like ours for a few days," Theo stated. "And one morning you ran like a jackrabbit."

Before Stiles could even try to come up with an explanation, Edith spoke up.

"The two beds," She said gently. "Jane said that you were trying to keep it a secret that you and Derek are together. That you were all angsty the other day at the diner as if you expected somebody coming for you."

Stiles just blinked at her while he tried to comprehend what she was implying. With his head banged up, it took him a moment to get the picture. From her point of view, it must look as if he and Derek were on the run from an abusive ex or something along those lines.

Stiles dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair with a groan.

"That's not …" He started but didn't know how to continue. He could hardly tell them the truth.

"You have barely enough clothes for one person with you," Edith added for good measure, reminding Stiles that she had been through his stuff.

Stiles didn't know what to say to that. He had only his emergency bag with him, he had intended to go back to Beacon Hills after his last job and he hadn't bothered with laundry anyway over the few days he had been home. Kira's birthday had been more important.

And the clothes Derek was wearing didn't even exist. Just like Derek himself, his clothes were figments of Stiles' imagination. At least that was what Stiles had thought about shades in general only a week ago.

"We …" Stiles started when he noticed that Theo and Edith were still looking at him, waiting for an answer. "We had to leave in a hurry."

His answer was feeding into their assumptions, Stiles knew that, but he had no idea what else to say.

"Oh, dear." Edith patted his hand but did include Derek in the comforting gesture with a smile in his direction. So far Derek hadn't said a word but he had finished his meal and was now just sitting there with his eyes on Stiles.

"If anybody comes looking for you," Theo said. "We have never seen you."

"And we would call Johnny right away," Edith threw in but when she noticed the confused expression on Stiles' face, she explained: "He and our Danny went to school together. Johnny has always looked out for Danny, dealt with the older kids when they had been picking on our boy. He never liked bullies." She said the last part in such an old woman's way, it made Stiles smile.

He still had no idea who Johnny was, his best guess was the local police force, but it kind of warmed his heart that these people who barely knew him were trying to protect him.

Stiles threw a glance at Derek who had been listening with interest.

"Johnny will take care of anybody bothering you," Theo said for good measure.

"I protect Stiles," Derek suddenly said.

"Of course you do." Edith smiled at him and then went to get them dessert.

Stiles, however, was just sitting there, trying really hard to not too openly stare at Derek. Who had just interacted with these people. Without prompting.

Stiles didn't even taste what he was eating for dessert. Blaming his still concussed head, he excused them right after dinner.

With Derek's help, he made it back to his bed, where he just collapsed face first on top of the covers. His whole body was aching and his head was throbbing, that part hadn't really been a lie, but his mind was too restless to go to sleep any time soon.

Next to him, the mattress dipped and then Derek slipped his hand under his shirt. Stiles sighed in content when the throbbing in his head abated and his ribs stopped protesting because of the rough landing on the bed.

Derek was becoming more and more human, werewolf, there was no denying that. And Stiles still had no idea how to deal with that. He should ask for help, he knew that, but for one, he didn't really know who to ask, Peter and Deaton were the first ones coming to mind but he doubted that they had an actual answer. And two, he might not like the answer they would come up with. Besides, they both were not exactly the kind of person to go to with a moral dilemma.

In the end, Stiles had two options: Stop summoning Derek or keep on summoning him. If he stopped, would that equal killing him? But if he didn't, wasn't he abusing a sentient being?

"Stiles?" Derek pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" Stiles twisted a little to look at him. Derek asking was still such a weird thing.

"Is somebody coming for you?" he asked. "I'll protect you."

"I know you will, big guy." Stiles couldn't help but smile. "But no, there is nobody coming for me."


	21. Chapter 21

"How quick can you get to Washington?"

"Well, hello to you too, Scott." Peter stretched out his legs and got more comfortable in his chair. Scott sounded worried but not in a life or death kind of way, no need to take off running.

On the other end of the line, Scott huffed into the phone.

"Do you want to talk about the weather first?" Scott asked.

"I'm looking at a lovely sunset over the ocean right now." It wasn't even a lie. The only thing missing was a cocktail with pieces of fruit on the rim and with a little umbrella but that was not the kind of beverage they were serving here.

"Where are you?" Scott asked. "And how quick can you get to Washington?"

"I'm not even on the same continent as you," Peter said in the faint hope that Scott would go and find someone else to bother. "I'd need a pretty good reason to fly in."

Scott didn't answer for a long moment, more proof that this was not an emergency.

"And helping you with the disposal of a body does not count."

"That was one time," Scott blurted out. "And it was a mountain lion."

Peter smiled to himself and didn't tell his alpha about the bodies he and Stiles had disposed behind his back. Those had not been mountain lions.

"It's about Stiles," Scott said. Suddenly his whole tone changed, he sounded defeated. Peter sat up straighter.

"I'm listening."

Apparently, Stiles had left in a hurry for a job but had intended to come back home right after he'd finished said job. But for some reason, he hadn't come home.

"He's not calling as often as he should and he has missed some of my calls," Scott said. "He keeps saying that he needs some time. That he has almost died and that he needs time to deal with that but that's bullshit."

Peter had to agree. He and Stiles had their fair share of near-death experiences when they had been on the road together. While Peter liked to distract himself with sex and good food, Stiles always wanted to retreat into the safety of the pack's den and let the whole pack pamper him. He didn't allow himself that as often as he needed it, he didn't want Scott to catch on to how frequently those near-death experiences actually were, and he had resorted to Peter's way more often than not. But Stiles had done it his way often enough for Scott to worry over his odd behavior now.

Peter remembered his conversation with Stiles about sex with a shade so it did look like he had tried Peter's way this time. But failed? Or was there something else going on? Scott was convinced that the almost dying was not the real problem here. Scott and Stiles had been best friends since kindergarten, if he said that there was something up with Stiles, Peter was listening. Besides, Scott wouldn't have called him if he weren't desperate.

"So, how quick can you get to Washington?" Scott repeated again.

"DC or the state?" Peter asked and in his head, he was already trying to figure out the quickest way to the nearest airport.

"State," Scott answered, the relief clear in his voice. "He's in some small town. At least he says he is."

"I can track his phone." It didn't look as if Stiles was actually hiding from them, finding him shouldn't be a problem. "Why aren't you already on your way there? You could get there way faster than me."

There was another pause.

"He doesn't want me to."

As if that had ever kept him from doing what he thought was best. Stiles must have really spooked him that he was sending in Peter.

Peter couldn't tell him how quickly he could make it back to the states, maybe two days but he didn't even know how long it would take him to get to the airport, but he promised to check on Stiles as soon as possible.

Once he'd finished the call, Peter downed his drink, which was punched beyond recognition and would have burned a hole right through his guts if he weren't able to heal instantly, and left the tin shack the locals called a bar. He'd waited long enough for his contact anyway.

Leaving the ocean in his back, Peter went in search for a ride back to the city.

That ride alone took three hours, more than enough time to call Stiles.

After he had ended that call, Peter knew that Scott was right. There was something going on with Stiles.

Stiles had tried to feed him the same bullshit he'd fed Scott, that he needed time to bounce back from his last job and Peter didn't even need to hear his heart-beat to know that he was lying through his teeth.

However, what worried Peter more, was the fact that Stiles had sounded tired and maybe in pain. Stiles was human and didn't heal like Peter. When they had been on the road together, Peter had patched him up occasionally and a few memorable nights he had sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand to give him some relief from the pain while Stiles had been fighting for his life. Peter was pretty sure that Stiles had never told Scott about those nights.

Fact was, Peter knew how Stiles sounded when he was injured.

On this short notice, Peter had to take whatever flight he could get back to the States. Which also meant to take whatever seat was left. He did not get first class.

Peter spent endless hours sandwiched between two loud tourists. Who were loud. And smelly. And they both were determined to talk to him.

Peter did not kill them. He was proud of that fact. He might have shredded his armrests, though. Just a little bit.

When Peter finally left Seattle in a rental, he was tired, sweaty and all in all not in a good mood.

He called Scott to let him know that he wasn't that far out and he half-expected for his alpha to tell him that things had been sorted out but thanks for flying in from the other side of the world anyway. But things hadn't been sorted out. Stiles was still more or less incommunicado.

Peter would never admit it but he was worried. He once had a big family and he would have killed for them, had killed for them, but now the only blood he had left was Malia. Who he loved, no doubt, but they would never really be father and daughter.

But he had a pack now, a good pack with a good alpha. It had pulled him back from his path of self-destruction. They had started out the worst possible way and Peter still didn't know why Scott hadn't just banned him from his territory. If things had been in reverse Peter would have killed Scott, simple as that, but that wasn't Scott. Scott didn't kill if it wasn't necessary and sometimes not even if it was. But Scott could have banned him and hadn't. Instead, he'd offered him a place in his pack.

Peter still didn't know why he had accepted. But point was, he had a pack which he respected, which he loved by now, and he would die for these people. Especially for Stiles.

So knowing that Stiles was in trouble didn't sit right with him. However, what worried him most was the fact that Stiles hadn't reached out to him. Even when Peter had called him and asked what was going on, he still had tried to dismiss him.

At least Stiles' phone was in the town he claimed to be staying at. It still was a few hours drive before Peter could confirm that in person, though.

The town was so small that Peter would have missed it if his GPS hadn't told him that he had arrived at his destination.

A gas station, a diner and a motel. For some reason, a hunting store was the most prominent building on the main street. Which had one traffic light. Peter stood there, waiting for it to turn green, while one car crossed the intersection. An elderly woman came out of the small grocery store at the corner. Otherwise, the whole town looked deserted.

At least with only one motel, there was not much guessing where to start looking for Stiles.

The parking lot was empty, no sign of Stiles' jeep.

Peter tried to not read too much into that fact. It was late in the afternoon, most likely Stiles was out doing something. Peter had no idea what one would do out here, though. Scott had mentioned that there was a Nemeton around here so Stiles could be out there.

"I hope not," Peter muttered to himself when he brought his car to a halt in front of what had to be the main office. The last thing he wanted to do, was to track Stiles through the woods. They had a lot of woods around here and he wouldn't even know where to start.

But maybe he was lucky and Stiles was in one of these rooms.

Through the window, he saw a woman in the office who hurried to look away when she noticed that he had noticed her. So much for just checking the rooms.

Peter got out of the car and despite his lack of sleep and all in all bad mood, he plastered his most charming smile on his face when he entered the office.

"Hello, there," the woman greeted him with a warm smile. "Looking for the interstate?"

"You don't get many visitors around her, don't you?" Peter shut the door and stepped over to the counter.

"Not like we used to." She shrugged. "But my Theo and I have mostly retired anyway. The motel is just something we can't quite let go just yet." She smiled at him but then straightened up. "So, you're not just lost?"

"Actually, I'm looking for a friend of mine." He stepped closer and put his elbow on the counter, all friendly and chatty, but he stopped dead when he heard her heart skipping a beat and then it was running way faster than before. And he was pretty sure that it was not because of his charming personality. A wave of anxiety hit him, clogging his nose.

"Who are you looking for?" She asked, too busy trying to keep up a professional facade to notice his own moment of shock. He had not anticipated such a reaction to a simple question.

"His name is Stiles," he answered as if he hadn't noticed anything amiss. "Stiles Stilinski."

"Sorry, never heard that name." She shook her head. She did sound convincing but her heart-beat and her scent gave her away. She knew exactly who he was talking about. "We don't get many outsiders around here. The last one was a guy from Los Angeles. His car broke down and he had to wait for three days for it to get fixed. Maybe that was your friend? But that was weeks ago."

She had caught herself and Peter believed her that there had been a guy from Los Angeles but there had also been a Stiles.

The guestbook was lying on the counter, closed, but he could insist on having a look. The way she was glancing at it, he didn't have to. Stiles' name was in there.

"I think, I'll just call him and ask where he's staying at." Peter pushed himself off the counter and turned towards the door. "Thanks for your help."

In the parking lot, he had a look around. His car was still the only one, Stiles' jeep had not magically appeared. Which was something Stiles might be able to do. If he was honest, Peter had no idea what exactly Stiles was capable of. He doubted that Stiles himself knew.

Peter only had to step a bit over to the row of doors to notice Stiles' scent. There was also the scent of the woman he had just talked to and another man's, but their scent weren't that dominant. But there was something else. Another male scent. Werewolf.

Peter followed Stiles' scent to one of the rooms and by now he knew that Stiles wasn't staying here alone.

"I swear, if he's just hiding a fuck buddy …," Peter muttered under his breath.

There was a heartbeat in the room but only one. However, Peter couldn't tell who it was, Stiles' and the other scent were mingled too much to tell.

Peter knocked.

The man who opened the door was not Stiles. Handsome with a bad guy touch, totally Stiles' type. Peter gave him his most feral grin. He was so going to strangle Stiles for worrying all of them just to get a sweet piece of ass.

"And you are?" Peter asked. The man in front of him was a werewolf, maybe even an alpha, but he was fucking with one of Peter's pack. Literally.

The man looked right back at him, not intimidated in the slightest.

"Derek Hale."


	22. Chapter 22

Sleeping was strange. It was a lot like the in-betweens except that Derek woke up in the same place he had fallen asleep in and that was just weird. And he remembered things from sleeping. Stiles called them dreams. Derek wasn't sure if he liked those.

What he really didn't like about sleeping was that he couldn't be sure that Stiles would be there when he woke up.

The first time he woke up alone in the bed, he panicked. Stiles was nowhere in sight and that was just wrong. Stiles was always there. Derek always knew where he was and now he'd woken up alone.

He stood wolfed out in the middle of the room before he was even fully awake, stretching his senses to locate Stiles and whatever had taken him. The blood was rushing loud in his ears and for a terrifying moment, he couldn't hear anything else.

But then he heard water running. Shower. Bathroom.

Derek barged into the bathroom and only when Stiles flailed and almost crushed to the floor, he remembered that Stiles didn't want him in here.

"Fuck!" Stiles cursed and braced himself on the wall. But Derek could see him through the frosted glass, that was all he cared about. By the time Stiles had collected himself and was peeking out the shower door, Derek had his features under control again.

"What's wrong?" There was water running down his face but Stiles was looking at him with concern. There was that scent again. Stiles felt guilty, as if he had done something wrong, as if he was sorry. He smelled like that often. Derek didn't like it.

"You weren't there."

"I'm right here." He huffed, probably annoyed, Derek wasn't sure. But then his features softened. "I won't go anywhere, promise." He shifted on the one leg he was standing on and Derek wondered if he should help him. He had tried to help him before but Stiles didn't want him to see him when he was naked. Derek didn't understand it but he obeyed without questioning the order.

However, Derek could tell how exhausting the shower was for Stiles. He had to brace himself with both hands on the wall while he tried to keep his casted leg off the floor. The water was running around the cast without touching it as if something invisible was keeping it at a distance. Magic was also exhausting for Stiles, Derek knew that.

"I can help you," Derek offered and stepped closer.

"Thank you but I got this." Stiles shied back and closed the shower door right in Derek's face. "Wait outside."

That was a clear order so Derek turned on his heel and left the bathroom.

They had been naked in bed together before but now Stiles made sure that they didn't see each other naked. Derek would have liked to be naked with Stiles again but Stiles didn't want to.

So Derek just waited until Stiles came out of the bathroom fully dressed. On two crutches he made his way over to the bed where he sat down with a heavy sigh.

Derek sat down next to him and took his hand to help him with the pain. That was something Stiles allowed and Derek did it as often as possible.

There was another in-between and that was better than sleeping. When Derek was there, so was Stiles. They were still in the same motel room but the location didn't really matter to Derek, what mattered was that Stiles was there.

"Edith invited us for dinner again," Stiles told him. "You hungry?"

"Yes." Eating was something Derek liked. There were a few things he had tried and didn't like, pears for example, he didn't like the texture, but mostly food was awesome. And Edith's food tasted really good, Derek liked it.

Over dinner, Derek was mostly listening. He kept a close eye on Stiles to not miss an order but otherwise, he just enjoyed his food and listened in to the conversation.

"Bobby called," Theo said. "He needs you to come in to discuss some things."

At the moment they were talking about Stiles' car.

"If you want I can drive you over later," Theo offered after another bite.

"Sure, thanks." Stiles agreed easily.

"While you two are out," Edith spoke up. "Derek, could you help me with something?"

Derek glanced over at Stiles to find out what he should answer but Stiles didn't give him a cue.

"Nothing bad," she hurried to say. "It's just, Hank brought us some firewood and it needs to get stacked. It's not that much, for a strong guy like you, half an hour tops." She patted Derek's forearm.

"What are you implying, woman?" Theo puffed himself up. "That I'm not strong enough for stacking some wood?"

"Ah, hush." She made a dismissing gesture in his direction. "Last time you stacked some wood, you hurt your back and couldn't get up again." She leaned in to Stiles and Derek. "Vivian had to come out and give him a shot in his back. Took him three days to stand straight again."

She was looking expectantly at him but Derek didn't know what she expected from him. Naturally, he turned to Stiles who would tell him what to do.

"It's your decision," Stiles said which didn't help at all. "Do you want to help her?"

"Yes?" Derek asked, searching Stiles' face and scent for a hint what the right answer was.

"You can say no," Stiles told him but every other signal he was getting from him was telling Derek that Stiles wanted him to help Edith.

So after dinner Stiles left with Theo and Derek followed Edith to where the pile of wood was waiting for him. Derek didn't know how he felt about the fact that Stiles was not right there, it was the first time they were farther apart than a few feet.

"Don't worry about him." Edith patted his arm again. "He'll be back in no time."

She showed him where to stack the wood and Derek went to work. It wasn't hard work and he kept up a good rhythm and before he knew it, he was done.

Edith thanked him with freshly made lemonade and he really liked that.

Stiles wasn't back by now so Derek returned to their room to wait for him there.

When he heard a car approaching, he thought it was Theo's and peeked out of the window to see if Stiles needed help. But the car wasn't Theo's and the man who was now entering the front office was unfamiliar to Derek.

Derek dismissed him and sat back down to wait for Stiles.

He did hear the man coming closer until he was standing right outside the door. He knocked.

For a moment Derek wasn't sure what to do but then he opened the door.

The man looked him up and down but Derek just waited for him to say something.

"And you are?" The man asked with a feral grin. He was a werewolf, that much was obvious but so far he hadn't posed a threat.

"Derek Hale."


	23. Chapter 23

When Edith asked Derek to help her with the wood it brought Stiles into a predicament. These people were feeding them, Thea had offered to be his driver and Edith was just mothering them to death, so when she asked for a little help, there was no way they could say no.

The problem was, Stiles wasn't able to do the work, at least not without some serious magic, and the last thing he wanted to do was to order Derek to do the work for him. So he was caught between emphasizing that it was Derek's decision and silently praying that he would say yes.

Stiles also made a mental note to talk to Derek about this. Why it was expected to say yes but that he always had the option to say no. It was as if he had to teach social skills to a toddler and thinking about it, it wasn't that far off.

In the end, Derek agreed to stack the wood but Stiles got the feeling that that had been the answer Derek hoped was the right one.

When Stiles climbed into Theo's car, he did it with mixed feelings.

"You're worried about him," Theo observed when he pulled out of the parking lot.

"I'm responsible for him," Stiles answered, fully aware that it would raise more question than it answered. The motel was getting smaller behind them but it was only a short ride to the gas station, Stiles could have walked there if he were able to walk properly.

Theo didn't say anything and Stiles could leave it at that but in the end, curiosity won.

"What do you think of Derek?" He asked, clutching his crutches, for this question he needed something to hold on to.

"Derek is …," Theo started but stopped, searching for words. "He's different. If that's just how he is or if it's because something happened to him, I don't know." He worded his statement carefully and Stiles got the feeling that this was not the first time he'd talked about Derek. If just with his wife or the rest of the town Stiles didn't know and didn't want to think about that.

"He's … recovering," Stiles said. The right word would be _developing_ but that would lead to questions he wouldn't be able to answer. He didn't really want to think about that either.

Theo nodded to that but if he wanted to say more Stiles would never find out because they had reached "Bobby's Gas and Garage".

Turned out Bobby was Theo's age, they went to school together, what a surprise, but he was more the scruffy type. Most of his face was hidden behind a salt and pepper beard and a trucker's hat deep in his eyes. He had a no-nonsense attitude and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, Stiles instantly liked him.

"Your baby has seen some shit over the years." Bobby led the way over to where Stiles' jeep was sitting at the side. The front shield was missing, most of the other windows were cracked and it was obvious where he'd hit the deer. That he'd only broken one bone looked like a miracle from this perspective.

"You were lucky," Bobby said when he noticed Stiles' look. "Heard you weren't alone in the car. If he got out unscratched, you have some very good angles watching over you."

"Yeah, we were lucky." Stiles hobbled over to have a closer look. His jeep had taken more than one hit over the years, this didn't look too bad. "So, how long will it take?"

Bobby pushed his trucker's head back and scratched his scalp. "Most is cosmetic but I have to make sure that the axes are properly aligned and the frame is not twisted too much. What will take a while, though, is the front shield. I'll have to order it in and that can take a few days." He put the hat back on properly and then he looked Stiles up and down. "But I doubt you're fit for driving any time soon anyway."

"Derek can drive," Stiles said without thinking. Derek behind the wheel was a bad idea. Stiles never knew how long he would last and evaporating into shadows while they were doing ninety on the highway was not a pleasant thought. Another reason why he should tell Scott what was going on here.

Stiles told Bobby to start the work and to order the parts. At least he didn't have to worry about the money. Helping old werewolf packs usually paid off. If it had just been for the money he would only have to take two or three jobs a year. If that, he probably could retire by now. Peter had set up a few things when he'd noticed that for the most part, Stiles had his money just sitting in his bank account.

Done with Stiles, Bobby turned out Theo. Turned out they also were fishing partners and if their fishing date next weekend still stood?

"I'm free, Edith has found somebody younger and more handsome to do the hard labor for her." Theo sighed theatrically. "He's stacking wood for her right now."

"Stacking wood or sticking it?" Bobby asked, a playful smile on his lips. At least Stiles guessed it was a smile moving his beard there.

"Stacking. He does the sticking with him." Unfazed by the innuendo Theo pointed with his thumb at Stiles. Who was busy keeping his balance, his body wanted to go into a full flail, damn old people and their dirty minds.

"Ah, the mysterious Derek," Bobby said, totally ignoring Stiles who was kept between laughing and not crashing with his crutches.

"Not cool." Stiles finally managed to get his crutches under him again.

The two old men just gave him an unimpressed look.

A few minutes later they were back in the car. With his jeep taken care of, Stiles was looking forward to his bed. Being up and about still exhausted him quicker than he liked to admit but he had the suspicion that it was more due to keeping Derek around most of the time. Not that he liked to admit that either.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the motel, Stiles didn't pay much attention to the new car parked in front of the office. He said goodnight to Theo and then made his way over to his room.

The door was open.

His first thought was that he needed to tell Derek how doors worked but then there was a growl followed by a crash.

Stiles hurried towards the door, with his broken leg he couldn't just run but with a little magic boost he made it to the room in record time.

Behind him, he heard Edith yelling something about the police being on the way but Stiles' focus was on the open door in front of him.

The room was trashed.

Derek was standing in the middle of the room, fully wolfed out with his eyes glowing red and blood dripping from his claws.

There was somebody lying at his feet, the face covered with blood so it took Stiles a second to recognize him.

"Peter?"

"What's going on?" That was Theo who was only a few steps behind Stiles.

However, Derek didn't lose focus by Stiles' arrival and raised his clawed hand. For the final blow, no doubt.

"Derek, stop," Stiles yelled and Derek froze mid-blow, his claws only inches from Peter's throat. "Shift back."

Theo was right behind him, Stiles didn't know how much of Derek he had seen but he would deal with him later.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Stiles asked.

"He attacked me," Derek answered while Peter was still lying on the floor. From what Stiles could see, he had taken quite a beating. If he'd been here only a moment later, Derek would have killed him, Stiles realized.

"Peter?" Stiles hurried over to him and then almost face planted right next to him in his attempt to get down on his knee to check on him. Derek was there to catch him and he stayed close to Stiles, a wary eye on Peter. Who still hadn't moved.

There was a lot of blood and in his panic, Stiles couldn't find the pulse point on his throat.

"Is he alive?" He asked, still searching for the pulse.

"Yes," Derek answered.

With a relieved sigh Stiles sat back and wiped his bloody fingertips on his jeans. Given time a werewolf could recover from almost anything, especially Peter who once had even recovered from death.

However, there were sirens in the distance and now Theo and Edith were both standing in the door, there was no way Stiles could cover up the scene.

And right on cue, Peter started to come around.

"Stay down, I have it under control," Stiles whispered. Too low for the humans to hear but the werewolf right next to him wouldn't have a problem understanding him. If Peter would follow the order was a completely different question. But Derek was not attacking him any longer, there were people watching them and for sure Peter could hear the sirens as well.

So Peter did stay down. For now. But he blinked his eyes open.

"Stiles," Peter said through too much blood. His eyes were now on Derek and his body tensed as if he was about to throw himself back into the fight. "That's not Derek."

"What? Of course, that's …" Stiles twisted around to look at Derek which reminded him of his still sore ribs.

Derek must have heard Peter's words as well but he just stood there, still watching the man on the floor.

"Stiles," Peter urged and reached for Stiles' sleeve. Derek tensed at that but he didn't attack. "That is not Derek."

Not Peter's Derek, Stiles realized. This Derek was not Peter's nephew. Peter's Derek had died in the fire at the age of sixteen.

"I know," Stiles hurried to say. He put his hand on top of Peter's which was still fisting his sleeve in an iron grip. "It's okay, I'll explain later. Trust me." He locked eyes with Peter for the last words and reluctantly Peter gave him a nod.

Then the police were there and moments later an ambulance. They wanted to take Peter away who by now was up to sitting, and bleeding, on the bed.

"It looks worse than it is." Peter swatted the hand away that wanted to peel off his shirt.

"Sir, you really should come with us," the paramedic said sternly. "You have lost a lot of blood and your wounds need to be treated."

Peter just glared at him until he backed off.

But it wasn't the paramedics who worried Stiles, it was the three police officers, trying to figure out what had happened here and who to arrest.

Two of the police officers had been trying to talk to Derek who was basically hiding behind Stiles and wasn't talking.

A third officer was with Theo and Edith and judging by the way they had greeted him, this was the friend of their son. In this town everybody was friends with everybody, it was downright scary.

Stiles had no idea what they were telling him. At least Theo had seen some things that were hard to explain.

Peter didn't know what was going on but the last thing they wanted to get involved was the police, that was an unwritten rule, so he downplayed his injuries, which should be almost healed by now anyway, and emphasized that he didn't intend to press charges.

With some stage whispering from Stiles, Derek expressed the same. Just a family dispute that went out of hand for a moment but it won't happen again. Promise, officer.

Stiles had no idea how but together with Peter he sweet-talked their way out of this. The paramedics left and then the two officers until only Theo, Edith, and their police friend were still lingering just outside the room.

"I'll handle that," Stiles told Peter and Derek and grabbed his crutches. "Don't kill each other behind my back."

Stiles hobbled over to the waiting group.

"Stiles." Edith caught him in a tight embrace that almost threw Stiles off balance but for a moment he just leaned into her. "What's going on? We can help you, just say the word and Johnny here can take him away, you don't have to see him ever again."

"Thanks but it's not like that," Stiles said but he knew how not convincing it sounded. "But if you want us gone, I'd understand that." He was looking at Theo for the last part but Edith was quick to call that idea nonsense.

"You and Derek can stay as long as you want," she said firmly.

It took a few minutes but in the end, Johnny left and Edith and Theo backed off as well. Stiles only breathed easier when he was leaning with his back against the closed door of his room.

However, the room was still trashed, the smell of blood was heavy in the air and Peter and Derek were facing each other from different sides of the room, both tense and ready to attack.

"I think I would like an explanation now," Peter said without taking his eyes off Derek.


	24. Chapter 24

Stiles felt the adrenaline rush fading off, his whole body was trembling and he barely made it over to his bed where he more crashed than actually sat down. On his way he had to cross the line of sight between Peter and Derek and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed both tensing up, ready to defend him from the other one. It would have been funny if Stiles weren't just exhausted and aching.

He took the moment to stretch out his casted leg on the bed and sighed in relief when the throbbing abated. He could tell that Derek wanted to come over and take his pain but he didn't dare to leave Peter out of his sight.

"I'm so stupid." Stiles ran a hand through his hair.

However, before Stiles could come up with a good way to explain why he had named a shade after Peter's deceased nephew, the one person of his family he had grieved, and maybe was still grieving, for the most, Derek evaporated in shadows.

"He's a shade?" Peter gaped at the spot where Derek had been standing a second ago. Peter got caught off guard so rarely Stiles would marvel at that but he was too busy gaping at Peter himself.

"You couldn't tell?"

Instead of an answer Peter gave him an unimpressed look and lifted the bloody remains of his shirt to reveal his stomach and chest. Most of the slashes had stopped bleeding but some were still sluggishly oozing blood.

"You're not healing?" Stiles was half off the bed to have a closer look but his body was not up to sudden movements just yet and when he accidentally put weight on the wrong leg, he almost crashed to the floor.

Somehow Peter managed to roll his eyes at him and at the same time catch him before his face could become friends with the floor.

"He's an alpha," Peter reminded him and more gently than expected he put Stiles back on the bed.

"But he's not … you know …," he wanted to say _real_ but that felt unfair. Derek was not just a simple shade.

"He's real enough," Peter said and after a moment of consideration, he sat down next to Stiles on the edge of the bed. He sat hunched over with his arm protectively over his chest. It reminded Stiles of the good old times. Stiles was one of the very few people Peter let see him like this. And it was a good feeling that this hadn't changed.

"So this is what you're doing here?" Peter asked after a moment. "Scott's worried, I was worried. I was in Thailand yesterday." He paused, most likely to give Stiles a chance to feel guilty. It worked. "And you holed up here to fuck a shade?"

"It's not … I'm not … it's complicated." The last bit came out with a resigned sigh.

Peter gave him a look and waited for him to uncomplicate it for him. So Stiles did.

Peter let him talk with only a question here and there to clarify things or to stir him back on track when Stiles was trailing off too far from the topic.

It felt good, finally talking about all this. He should have called Peter days ago, Stiles realized. Out of his pack, Peter was the one who understood. He was the one who understood his magic the most.

"So your shade came to life," Peter summed it up when Stiles had finished his explanation.

"Pretty much." Stiles nodded. "You know my shades and even you couldn't tell that he was not flesh and blood." His gaze wandered over to the blood stains on the carpet. He wondered if some of them were Derek's. If he was real enough to leave traces of blood behind. Stiles couldn't tell, to him blood looked like blood, and if he was honest, he didn't really want to know.

"Why did you name him Derek?" Peter asked quietly.

"I don't know." Stiles let out a sigh. "Wasn't my smartest idea. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"He looks a bit like him," Peter said, a sad little smile playing on his lips. "A bit like a grown-up version of him."

 _Like the man he could have become_ , hung unspoken between them.

"I swear I wasn't thinking of him when I created this shade. I just wanted an alpha werewolf, honestly thought it would look like Scott." Stiles deflated with the last words.

"What now?" Peter asked.

"You should clean up and we should tidy up the room a bit." Stiles deliberately ignored the fact that Peter was talking about Derek. "Then I should try to talk Edith into giving you a room. She's convinced that you're my or Derek's abusive ex we're running from."

Peter raised his eyebrow at him but didn't ask.

"Most likely the whole town thinks that," Stiles muttered. "Especially after what has happened here."

"Why am I always the one with the bad reputation?" Peter asked but with a small smile on his lips, telling Stiles that he wasn't mad at him.

"You have that vibe." Stiles shrugged. When they had been on the road together, people had always pegged Peter for the bad guy. Stiles had always been the awkward but adorable one. At least until he'd opened his mouth.

"What about … Derek?" Peter hesitated at the name and it looked almost painful when he said it.

"My car is in the garage for at least two more days," Stiles said, still avoiding the question. "People around here have gotten used to seeing Derek. Especially now they need to see him."

"They would think I murdered him?" Peter asked but it wasn't really a question.

"Pretty much."

They sat in silence for a moment but that never sat right with either of them.

So a minute later, Peter went to get his bag from his car and then he took a much-needed shower while Stiles made the long way over to the main office. His shoulders were aching from using the crutches all day but that was not the reason why the way over the parking lot felt so long. For once in his life Stiles had no idea what to tell Theo and Edith who were both in the office, openly watching him while he approached the building. Of course.

"Sorry for the damage to the room, we'll pay for it," was the first thing coming to mind so Stiles just blurted that out the second he was through the door.

"Is Derek okay?" Edith asked at the same time. "You didn't leave him with that … that man, did you?"

"That man is his uncle, Peter Hale," Stiles clarified. Stiles had chosen Derek's name with the possibility in mind that he might need to establish an identity for him. Peter hadn't been happy about it but it had been his idea that they did it right and introduced him as Derek's uncle. At least around here. They hadn't spoken about a long-term solution.

"They won't kill each other," Stiles promised. "Like I said, a misunderstanding that got out of hand. But nothing more than a bloody nose, some bruises, and damaged pride. Peter is not the bad guy here."

Edith didn't look convinced but couldn't really argue either. She didn't like the idea of Peter staying but in the end, she gave Stiles the keys to a room at the other end of the motel.

"And this is for you and Derek." She held out another pair of keys.

"What's that?"

"It's late and you're still injured, I bet you're tired. Both of you. After a day like this." She shook her head. "Get a good night's sleep. We'll see about the other room in the morning."

"We will, thank you." Stiles hadn't been sure if she still wanted them to hang around but it looked like at least that hadn't changed. But she wasn't the one who had seen Derek earlier.

Theo came back with him to the room to have a look at the damage but Stiles suspected that was not the only reason.

"I'll show you your new room first," Theo said and took the lead before Stiles had a chance to protest. Not that he would have. He would have liked to have this talk with Theo tomorrow, Edith had been right, he was dead tired and if he didn't get off the crutches soon his arms would just fall off, but the sooner they had this talk, the better.

"It's this one." Theo took the key from Stiles and opened a room just two doors from their original room. Still far from Peter's.

This one had one bed, though. A king-sized bed.

Their sleeping arrangements would become more comfortable like this but at the same time, Stiles would have to acknowledge that he and Derek had slept in the same bed for quite a while now.

"Hope this is okay," Theo pulled him out of his thoughts. "It was Edith's idea, she said you don't have a reason to pretend any longer." He shrugged but it was clear that that was not the topic he wanted to talk about.

Stiles wasn't sure how much he had seen so he just assured him that the bed was fine and otherwise just waited for the other man to start talking.

"Am I going crazy?" The pained expression on Theo's face told Stiles enough to know why he didn't want to sleep over this. There were nightmares already lurking in the shadows.

"You're not." Making up his mind, Stiles set down on the edge of the bed and gestured for Theo to take one of the chairs at the small table. "What did you see?"

Theo didn't answer instead, he was holding on to the edge of the table and it was clear that he was close to just bolting out of the door. Nobody liked to admit that they had seen things that were widely considered impossible.

"I have a pretty good idea of what you saw." Stiles tried to sound patient but he really wasn't. Dealing with the muggles who had gotten in the way had never been his favorite part of the job.

Stiles knew the type. Theo was a no-nonsense kind of guy, rooted in reality. However, he also had a Nemeton basically in his backyard, there was no way that he hadn't grown up with magic tales and maybe even an incident here and there that he couldn't quite explain. But Stiles doubted he'd ever witnessed something this blatant ever before.

"Derek …," Theo started after a long considering look at Stiles. "His face. His hands, they didn't look human for a moment."

"That's because he isn't human," Stiles said, he was not in the mood for playing games. "He's a werewolf. Peter too. What you saw earlier was the werewolf equivalent to a shouting match." The last part was a lie, they had tried to kill each other, but Theo didn't need to know that.

"What about you?" Theo asked. He kept his eyes on Stiles but Stiles just knew that he was calculating in his head how fast he could make it to the door.

"Me?" Stiles huffed out a laugh. "Plain old human. I wouldn't have to deal with this otherwise." He knocked on the plaster on his leg. "Werewolves heal. And fast."

"That's why Derek came out of the crash unscratched?"

That wasn't the reason but Stiles nodded in agreement, no need to make this even more complicated.

"We mean no harm," Stiles said. "We just need a place to sort out some things. But if you want us gone, we'll leave. I'll tell Edith that it was my idea."

Theo was quiet for a long moment.

"I have to think about it," he finally said. "You can stay the night."

"Thank you."

Stiles knew their conversation wasn't over yet. Next part would be the questions about werewolves.

"So, Derek is a werewolf and his uncle is one too," Theo mused. "They both got bitten or are we talking about a whole family of werewolves?"

That was not what Stiles had expected but he liked the way Theo was thinking.

"Most werewolves are born that way, actually." Stiles dared to relax and leaned back with his leg stretched out on the bed and his shoulders against the headboard. His leg was grateful for that. "The Hales are an old werewolf family."

"That's why you're on the run?" Theo jumped to a conclusion to which Stiles couldn't quite follow. "Because you're not like them?"

It took Stiles a long moment to get on that train of thoughts, damn he was tired.

"Yeah," Stiles made, his mind racing. "Derek thought that Peter was coming for us. That's why … you know." He made a slashing motion with his hand. "But Peter is on our side."

Theo had more questions, of course he had, but they agreed to put them off for later. Edith would be wondering by now what was keeping him and he still had to inspect the other room. Where Peter was waiting for them.


	25. Chapter 25

Stiles followed Theo back to the other room. He would have loved to stay back, that bed had been comfy, and let Peter bring over his things later but this shortly after the revelation of werewolves Stiles didn't think that it would be a good idea to let the poor man face Peter alone. Not that that was ever a good idea.

By now Peter had showered and put on some clean, and whole, clothes but the way he was moving told Stiles that there were probably bandages under that shirt. Wounds inflicted by an alpha healed slower, that was nothing new, what was new was the fact that apparently Derek was real enough to cause that effect.

"Got you a room," Stiles announced and had a look around. Peter had tidied up a bit but the damage to the room was still visible. There was a dent in the wall, a chair was trashed and one of the beds was broken through. Peter had tried to take care of the worst of the blood strains but with not much success.

"I think you'll need bleach for this," Peter said, almost apologizing. He straightened up and then he was just standing there with a bloody towel in his hands.

"Don't worry about it." Theo hurried to assure him, looking everywhere but Peter. Stiles didn't need to be able to smell his scent to know that he was afraid of Peter.

"Like I said, I'll pay for the damage." Stiles moved past him to sit down on the remaining bed.

"Where's Derek?" Theo had a look around but Stiles wasn't sure if he was worried about Derek or just wanted to know where the other potential threat was.

"He needed fresh air," Peter spoke up, the bloody towel now over his shoulder as if they'd caught him in the middle of doing the dishes. To Stiles it looked absurd and eerily fitting at the same time, it reminded him of Peter's post-murder handkerchief. Who the fuck used a monogrammed handkerchief to wipe blood off their hands? Peter, that's who.

To Theo, however, he must look like a serial killer. Which … okay, he had a point there.

Theo did a quick "inspection" of the room before he wished them a good night and more or less bolted out of the door.

"What's with him?" Peter asked once they were alone.

"He probably thinks that you'll bite him or rip his throat out. With your teeth." Stiles waved him off, he was too tired for this shit.

"That would be very uncivilized."

Peter sat down next to him.

"Are you okay?"

"No," Stiles admitted. It was just too much. He was hurting and exhausted and he just knew that he would summon Derek to keep him company for the night.

Instead of an answer, Peter put his arm over Stiles' shoulders. Stiles let himself sag into the other man. He was tempted to ask him to share the room with him, just like in the good old times, but he felt as if he would betray Derek with that. It was stupid but he couldn't help that feeling.

"Are we safe here?" Peter broke the silence.

"Had to clue Theo in on werewolves." Stiles sat up straighter and wiped his eyes. "But yeah, we're safe here."

"We should go to sleep, then," Peter said. "Sleepover it, we can figure out the rest tomorrow."

Peter looked exhausted as well so Stiles just nodded and reached for his crutches again.

Peter carried Stiles meager things over to the other room, Stiles should ask Edith if he could use her washing machine, he was running out of clean clothes, and after he'd made sure that Stiles had everything he needed, Peter left him alone.

Stiles busied himself with peeling himself out of his clothes, brushing his teeth and a quick wipe down with a washcloth, he was not up for a shower, and then he was lying in the too big bed.

For a few minutes, he tried to will himself to sleep but his mind was racing and he was hyper-aware of the fact that he was alone in the bed. He was used to having at least a shade watching over him and lately he had grown used to having Derek with him in bed.

Still not knowing what the right thing to do was, Stiles gave in. A second later Derek slipped under the covers. It was dark, at least to Stiles' eyes, so only when Derek cuddled up to him he noticed that he had failed to summon him with clothes on.

"Are you naked?" Stiles asked but he was pretty sure that Derek's bare dick had just brushed against this thigh.

"Yes," Derek answered, not in the slightest embarrassed over that fact.

"Just fucking great." Stiles huffed but he was too exhausted to actually do something about this. Derek had slipped his hand under Stiles' shirt and was taking his pain again and that was nice, okay?

Derek shifted closer, hesitating at first but then he shoved his nose into the hollow of Stiles' neck. It tickled and made Stiles laugh.

"Do I smell bad again?" He asked.

"Yes." The word was a hot puff on Stiles' skin. "Because of me?"

That sobered Stiles up.

"No," he hurried to say. "You did nothing wrong."

"You smell like the other werewolf," Derek stated.

"Are you jealous?" Stiles asked. If he was honest, he had no idea what was going on in Derek's head. Could he be jealous?

"I don't like it." Derek rubbed his cheek over Stiles neck and shoulder, marking him with his scent.

"His name is Peter Hale." Stiles angled his head to give Derek better access. "If anybody asks, he's your uncle." That made Derek pause but after a moment he went back to covering up every trace of Peter on Stiles with his own scent.

It didn't take long for the scenting to take a different turn. Derek had his hand in Stiles' hair and he was licking and kissing every inch of bare skin he could reach. It didn't come as a surprise when his lips met Stiles'.

Stiles knew it was wrong, he knew that. But Derek was right there and more than willing and by now the hard line of his erection was pressed against Stiles' thigh. And damn, he needed a good fuck.

"Derek." Stiles cupped his face to bring some distance between them. "What do you want?"

"You," came the instant answer. Along with some grinding.

"Derek, do you want to have sex with me?" Stiles wanted to tell him to rip off his boxers and just take him but he needed to hear Derek saying it.

"Yes." Derek was now almost lying on top of him, his cock nestled into the crease of Stiles' hip. This way Stiles' own erection got some nice friction as well.

"You can say no." Stiles had problems focusing because Derek was worming his hands under his shirt but this was important. "Derek, listen to me, this is an order."

At that, Derek stopped and propped himself up to look Stiles in the eye. Even in the dim light, Stiles noticed the intensity with which he was watching him.

"You can say no," Stiles repeated. "I won't be mad, quite the opposite. If you want to stop or if we do something you don't feel comfortable with, you have the order to tell me to stop. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to fuck me?" Stiles asked. He couldn't help bucking his hip into Derek but he needed to know before he let this escalate farther.

"Yes," Derek answered but he was still looking down on him with that intense look. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

That question totally blindsided him. Stiles gaped at him and for a moment neither of them moved.

"Why are you asking this?"

"Your scent and body say you want to have sex with me but your words don't," Derek said, still watching him. Searching for hints, Stiles realized, for a cue on how to proceed.

"I want to." Stiles made up his mind. He could freak out over this tomorrow. "But only if you want it too."

Instead of an answer Derek leaned in and brought their lips together. Stiles could lose himself in Derek's kisses but today he needed more.

"There's lube somewhere in my bag, get it."

While Derek was searching for the lube, Peter had just thrown everything in the bag but even he had been too tired to say something sassy about the lube in the nightstand, Stiles scrambled out of his boxers and t-shirt. He put a pillow under his lower back and the folded blanket under his injured leg, this should work as long as Derek didn't go too rough on him.

When Derek turned back to him, bottle of lube in hand, he paused and just took a moment to look at Stiles who was waiting bare and open for him on the bed. Stiles didn't know what to read in his eyes. The lamp on the nightstand was not bright enough to illuminate the whole room and left Derek's eyes in the dark, Stiles could only make out a hint of red glowing in the shadows.

He swallowed thickly.

"Come here and open me up," Stiles said and only then realized that it was an order which Derek had to follow.

However, Derek was already crawling onto the bed from the foot end and damn, that was a sexy sight.

He buried his face in Stiles' crotch and inhaled deeply, his stubble scratching over the sensitive skin of Stiles' inner thigh. He nosed at Stiles' balls and licked the skin right behind them and all Stiles could do was to lie there and wonder what he would do next. This was not what he had in mind when he'd told Derek to open him up. But apparently, Derek had a mind of his own.

Then there was a lubed finger probing his entrance but at the same time, there was a hot mouth sinking down on his length.

"Not gonna last." Stiles breathed out but then he lost the ability to form words when Derek found his prostate.

Stiles came with three fingers deep in him and the muscles of Derek's throat working him through the waves of his orgasm.

"That was good." Stiles sank deeper into the mattress, his body relaxed and warm. He could drift off to sleep like this.

However, Derek wasn't done with him. He got into position between his pliant legs, hoisted the one that wasn't in a cast over his shoulder and then, ever so slowly, he sank into him.

Stiles' mouth fell open in a toneless sigh. He was stretched and loose but Derek filled him up so good. Stiles thought that he told Derek that much but he wasn't sure. But then Derek started to move and everything else was forgotten.

He rolled his hips slowly, more grinding than thrusting, which resulted in agonizing slow drags over Stiles' already sensitive prostate. As if he had all the time in the world Derek worshiped Stiles' front with little licks and kisses, his hand caressing the parts he couldn't reach with his mouth.

"Derek," Stiles keened when his mouth found one of his nipples. It was too much. Stiles just helplessly buried a hand in Derek's hair, to keep him there or to push him away, he didn't know, while Derek gently scraped his teeth over the pebbled flesh.

Stiles came a second time with Derek balls deep in him and this time he took Derek over the edge with him. Derek's face was just inches above him and coming down from his own high, Stiles saw the red glowing in his eyes, his mouth slack with a hint of canine.

Stiles reached up to cup his face and Derek pushed into his palm without even noticing.

"You're beautiful," Stiles whispered, afraid to break the moment. Derek didn't answer, he just rubbed his cheek against Stiles' palm and let out a content sigh.

Stiles would have liked to stay like this forever but eventually, Derek slipped out and Stiles sent him to clean up and bring him something to wipe off the lube and come as well.

With that taken care of Derek slipped under the covers with him again. Looked like Derek was a cuddler after sex, Stiles noticed and welcomed him with open arms.

Stiles was already half asleep when Derek suddenly broke the silence.

"Stiles?"

"Hmm?" Not really awake Stiles snuggled deeper into his pillow.

"Stiles?" Now Derek propped himself up on one elbow and Stiles got the feeling that whatever this was, it was important. He blinked his eyes open.

"Yes?"

"I'm not real, am I?"


	26. Chapter 26

Derek's focus was on Stiles. Always. But he was aware of his surroundings, of the people around him. At first, he hadn't really paid attention to that, he hadn't cared about anything but Stiles, he'd only made sure that there wasn't a threat nearby.

However, lately he did care about his surroundings. He liked food, especially the things Edith made, and he liked Edith and Theo. When Edith had asked about stacking the wood, he hadn't been sure what Stiles expected from him but when he had agreed to help, Edith had smelled so happy. He had liked that.

When that other werewolf had been at his door, Derek hadn't thought of him as a threat. He didn't seem dangerous. He had been smiling and Derek thought he might had been amused but then he'd asked for Derek's name and next thing he knew the other werewolf was fighting him with everything he had.

"You're not Derek!" Those words still echoed in his head.

Stiles hadn't let him kill the other werewolf and he had told Stiles the same.

"That's not Derek."

There had been an in-between so Derek didn't know what had happened later and for the first time he wondered what happened when he wasn't there.

When he had been there again, it was in another room but Stiles was there so that didn't really matter. What mattered was the fact that the other werewolf had left his scent all over Stiles. Derek needed it gone, he needed to cover it up with his own scent and this time Stiles allowed it. He allowed more than just a fleeting kiss.

Stiles could change his mind and not allow it any longer so Derek tried his best to make Stiles feel good. Maybe that way he was allowed to do this for a little while longer. Maybe even again soon.

After, when they were lying together in bed, warm and content, Derek with his head on Stiles' shoulder, Derek could tell that Stiles was drifting off to sleep.

Sleep was still a strange thing to Derek, he still didn't like it, but tonight his head was full with thoughts anyway.

 _You're not Derek_ , echoed through his mind.

Stiles had told him that he was Derek so he was Derek. That was a truth so deeply ingrained in him, he felt it to his very core. He was Derek Hale.

But he had noticed things.

He was not like other people.

Edith and Theo had spoken about their children who had been babies at one point but were all grown up now. They talked about months and years. Derek didn't know how they kept track of time with in-betweens. Did they have in-betweens? Derek couldn't tell how long he had been there but it hadn't been years. At least he thought that it hadn't been years.

Stiles could keep track of time, was everybody like him? But Derek hadn't seen anybody doing magic and nobody smelled like they could work magic either.

But that was only the tip of the iceberg. Once he'd started thinking about it, Derek more and more realized that he was different than everybody he had ever met. As if he wasn't as real as them.

His first memories were kind of fuzzy, there as in he knew what had happened and if Stiles asked he would be able to tell him exactly what the two werewolves had been wearing that had been attacking him the first time Stiles had summoned him. But at the same time, the memory felt distant, as if Derek himself hadn't been there. Not really.

Thinking about it, it became more and more obvious. Stiles summoned him. Stiles had even used that word. Normal people, real people didn't get summoned.

Derek trusted Stiles. His whole existence was revolving around him. So it was natural for him to turn to Stiles with this.

Stiles was more sleeping than awake but he had ordered him to tell him if he needed anything. And at the moment Derek really needed an answer.

"Stiles?" Derek asked and when he was sure that the other man was listening, he asked: "I'm not real, am I?"


	27. Chapter 27

Stiles was drifting off to sleep. It had been a long day. He was exhausted, fucked out and at least for the moment, the nagging thoughts in his head were quiet. He was just ready to give in to sleep.

But then Derek called his name with an urgency that he couldn't ignore.

A second later Stiles was wide awake, sleep and exhaustion forgotten.

"What?" Derek hadn't just asked what he thought he'd asked, had he?

"Am I real?"

Yup, Derek totally had asked what Stiles thought he had asked.

Blindly Stiles searched for the light switch, he needed to actually face Derek for this. The lamp on the nightstand came to life and Stiles blinked into the sudden brightness. When he turned to Derek he found him looking at him, patiently waiting for an answer.

"It's complicated," Stiles said for the second time this evening. And Derek was the third person he had this kind of conversation with today. How long was this fucking day?

Stiles propped himself up on one elbow and Derek mirrored his move, still looking at him, still waiting.

"I swear, I never intended this to happen," Stiles said. He had said something similar before but he felt the need to emphasize that part. "You were supposed to be just a shade, magic pressed into a mindless form. I have no clue what is happening here." It wasn't an answer, Stiles knew that but he needed to start at the beginning.

"You don't want … me?" Derek turned his head away with the last word but not quick enough. Stiles saw his broken eyes.

"No!" Stiles reached over to cup his face. "I want you. I'm glad you're here." He ducked his head to look him in the eye. "Derek, listen to my heart-beat. I want you."

Derek tilted his head, listening, and a bit of that broken expression left his face.

"Do you know the expression _cogito, ergo sum_?" Stiles asked. When he had been on his research spree about sentient beings, it had come up quite a lot.

Derek shook his head, his stubble scratching over Stiles' palm.

"It's Latin. It means _I think, therefore I am,_ " Stiles explained. "The fact alone that you are asking if you are real is proof that you are."

Derek thought about that for a moment.

"I'm not like you. Or Edith. Or Theo."

"No." And that was the problem. "At the core, you are a shade. I have to summon you and the spell doesn't last forever."

"The in-betweens." Derek nodded as if he understood that part.

"In-betweens?"

"When I'm not there."

Derek had a word for it, a goddamn word. It broke Stiles' heart and he had to blink against the tears but he gave Derek a nod with a broken "yes".

Derek reached over and hesitantly he cupped Stiles' face the same way Stiles had done it.

"You're upset. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." Stiles forced a smile on his lips and he made a point of rubbing his cheek into Derek's palm. It was a werewolf thing and as expected it eased the concerned look off his face.

"It's just …" Stiles took a deep breath, this wasn't easy. He had told Peter some of his concerns but he had counted on him to deduct the parts he couldn't put in words himself. With Derek things were different, for him he needed to spell it out. "I'm in way over my head and I have no fucking clue what I'm doing here."

Derek didn't say a word, he just looked at him, reading his face and probably listening to his heart-beat. And what his scent was telling him, Stiles didn't even want to think about that. The whole situation was a mess.

"But there is one thing I know." Stiles put his hand on top of Derek's still on his face. "I want you. I want you to stay." He paused, giving himself and Derek a moment to let that sink in. So far Stiles had been debating with himself if he should continue summoning Derek or not and for the first time he had a clear answer to that.

"I want to stay," Derek said earnestly and wasn't that hilarious? Stiles huffed out a bitter laugh. Derek was basically saying that he wanted to live.

"I'll keep on summoning you," Stiles promised. "But that's not a long-term solution."

"Why not?" Derek tilted his head, confused.

"Why not?" Stiles yelled and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Derek's hand slipping off his face and he ducked his head as if he expected Stiles to … do something bad, Stiles realized.

"Hey." Stiles reached for him again. "It's okay, it's okay."

Derek looked at him like a kicked puppy but when Stiles made himself comfortable with his back to the headboard, he followed suit. This was better, sitting shoulder to shoulder Stiles couldn't see the emotions flashing over Derek's face. And damn, he had more mood swings than a toddler.

But considering that he had been completely emotionless not long ago, he might be a bit overwhelmed by things like emotions.

"Let me explain, okay?"

"Okay."

"The problem is that I have to summon you," Stiles said carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Derek. "Your whole existence depends on me. I summon you and you are here for as long as the spell lasts. Or until I dismiss you." In this new light that was a disturbing thought. How often had he cut Derek's existence short? "And while you're here you're bound to me. You have to do whatever I tell you."

For a long moment, they sat there in silence.

"Why is that a problem?" Derek finally asked.

"Why …?" Stiles twisted around to face him so abruptly that he almost knocked the lamp off the nightstand. "You depend on me. Without me, you wouldn't even exist. You're basically my slave. Just worse."

"And that … is bad?" Derek asked but he was clearly guessing here.

"Yes!" Stiles yelled but a second later he deflated. "I just have no fucking clue how to change it."

Derek was quiet for a moment but Stiles got the feeling that he was searching for the right words.

"I like this," Derek said and under the covers, he put a hand on Stiles' bare thigh.

Which reminded Stiles that they were having this conversation naked. Stiles shifted a little and yep, there was still a squishy feeling between his cheeks. He let out a sigh.

"You don't know anything else," Stiles said after a moment and to show Derek that things were still good between them, he leaned in on him until their shoulders touched.

"I don't want to take anything away," Stiles assured him and he felt the tension melting out of Derek at his words. "But you should have more. You deserve more."

"More?"

"Yeah." Stiles' mind was racing. How the fuck was he supposed to explain _more_ to Derek? So he just blurted out the first thing his tired brain came up with. "Clothes."

"Clothes?" Derek raised his eyebrow at him with an expression that was either curious or amused. Probably both.

"Clothes," Stiles repeated. "You don't have any. You wear whatever my subconsciousness comes up with every time I summon you. You're naked because some part of me wanted you naked and that's not right. It should be your decision what you wear and if you want to be naked around me or not."

"I like to be naked around you."

"That's … good to know, I guess." It took all of Stiles' willpower to not jump on that train of thought. "But that's totally not the point. The point is that you can't even make a simple decision like that for yourself."

Stiles had no idea how to fix this, he had to find a way to make the spell permanent but he didn't even know if that was possible. And not just that, making it permanent would only solve part of the problem. He also had to free Derek. Somehow.

However, he could do something about the clothes thing.

"Tomorrow we'll go shopping," he decided. Not that they had anything else to do while his car was in the garage. "We'll get you some clothes."

Derek gave him a look as if that was the stupidest idea ever.

"What?" Stiles gestured over Derek's naked body, at least the blanket covered up his crotch but Stiles had the feeling that he had only pulled up the blanket because Stiles had done the same. So far Derek hadn't shown any shame when it came to his nakedness.

"We'll borrow Peter's car and drive over to the next city, whichever one that is." He was warming up to that idea. "Then we'll raid a mall. We'll get you a nice selection. You can pick whatever you like."

The expression on Derek' face didn't change, he was still looking at him as if he was dumb.

"And when I'm not there?" Derek asked when Stiles failed to see the hitch. "The in-betweens?"

"The …?" It took Stiles' brain longer than necessary to get what he meant but this day had been way too long already, cut a guy some slack. "Oh."

If the clothes were real he would have to summon Derek naked which shouldn't be that big of a problem most of the time since he tended to do that in privacy anyway but when Derek vanished he would leave a pile of clothes behind which would be inconvenient at best and compromising at worst.

What was even more baffling was the fact that Derek understood this fact about his nature.

For the first time, Stiles wondered how it would feel like to be a shade. Not knowing when he would just stop existing and coming back to life in a different place and at a different time. It was a scary thought.

However, Stiles had still no idea how to fix this and his attempted to fix at least this tiny bit had failed miserably. Stiles felt tears pricking in his eyes.

"I like the leather jacket," Derek said, hesitantly. "And the green Henley. I like that too."

"Are you saying that to make me feel better?" With the heel of his hand, Stiles wiped his eyes. "Or do you really like those?"

"Both?" Derek ducked his head but there was a smile playing on his lips. That mischievous little bastard. But he did come out of Stiles' brain so he shouldn't be that surprised.

"Is there something you don't like?" Stiles asked and then he was holding his breath for Derek's answer. Would Derek even dare to admit that he didn't like something Stiles had deliberately put on him?

"The tight jeans," Derek answered promptly. "I don't like them."

"You won't have to wear them ever again," Stiles promised. It was a shame, Derek's ass looked amazing in those but this was the first decision Derek had made for himself so of course Stiles would give him that. "How about this, tomorrow I'll show you some things on the internet. You can choose some new clothes online and I'll picture you wearing them when I summon you."

"I would like that." Derek gave him a bright smile as if he'd just gotten his Christmas present early, it made Stiles sick in the stomach but he still managed to smile back without it feeling forced.

"And I'll stuck heads together with Peter, we'll find a way to make you a real boy." It was a plan. Over the last few days, Stiles just had let things unfold as they happened but he hadn't really done anything. He hadn't even allowed himself to think too closely about Derek and what was happening to him. That had to stop. Now.

"I don't think he likes me," Derek said quietly. "He said that I'm not Derek."

"He didn't know you." Stiles defended Peter but that alone didn't explain his reaction. "There has been a Derek Hale before, he was Peter's nephew. I kind of named you after him."

"What happened to him?"

"He died, a long time ago," Stiles admitted. "Peter probably thought you were an imposter or something. But he knows the truth now. He won't try to hurt you again." Stiles just hoped the last part wasn't a lie.


	28. Chapter 28

Peter hadn't slept much the last couple of days and when he entered his room, he just wanted to go straight to bed. Instead, he dropped his bag by the door and sat down in the chair right next to it. With a sigh, he stretched out his legs.

He needed to call Scott. He had to tell him that he'd found Stiles, which was true, that Stiles was okay, which was not true, and that he had everything under control, which was a flat out lie.

Peter rubbed a hand down his face to get more alert but it didn't actually help. For another full minute, he just sat there, slumped down in the chair, and tried to muster the energy he would need for that phone call.

At least Scott was as gullible as ever, God bless his innocent heart, so when Peter told him that he'd arrived late and didn't have time for an in-depth talk with Stiles, he believed it.

"I'm just worried," Scott said. "I know there's something going on with him and if he didn't even tell me what it is …"

"I'm here now, I'll have an eye on him," Peter promised.

With that call out of the way, exhaustion caught up with him. He had already showered so Peter just undressed and a minute later he was lying under the covers.

The bandages around his torso felt strange but he knew that it would take at least until morning for his wounds to heal. This wasn't the first time he'd been injured by an alpha. However, this was the first time he had gotten attacked and actually injured by one of Stiles' shades.

Those shades could deal out some serious damage, he had seen it before, but for the alpha aspect to take effect … Peter had no idea what he was dealing with here. Stiles said that the shade didn't mean any harm but the still not healed slashes on Peter's chest begged to differ.

It had only fought back when Peter had attacked it, he had to give it that.

"Derek," Peter said into the darkness of his room. "Its name is Derek."

Earlier he'd just rolled with it, there had been not much he could do about it, once one of Stiles' shade had a name, it had a name. Peter didn't understand the specifics but Stiles had tried to explain it when they had been on the road together and shades had been a common assistance.

"You can't just change Batman's name to Big Flappy Guy and expect to still get Batman. You'll get Big Flappy Guy. A name comes with a specific form." Peter could almost hear Stiles' voice in his head and back then that explanation had made sense.

However, now he had named something that wasn't Derek "Derek Hale" and where was the specific form now? Yes, it looked a bit like a grown-up version of Derek but it didn't grow up with two sisters who had put clips in his hair when he'd been sleeping. This Derek hadn't followed Peter out into the preserve at the age of seven and got lost in the middle of the night. This Derek wasn't the nephew, the friend, Peter had lost.

It was way after midnight when Peter finally fell into an uneasy sleep. He woke up early, his head still full with half-remembered dreams. About Derek. About his family. About the fire. And about the shade named Derek.

Giving up on sleep Peter rolled out of bed. His chest and stomach had healed up enough to leave the bandages but the skin was still new and tender and Peter hissed when the hot water of the shower hit him but he wanted to rinse off the blood.

Feeling more like himself he grabbed his keys and left his room. Stiles would still be sleeping at this early hour but Peter did wonder if he was sleeping alone. Apparently, he had kept the shade for a whole night before.

Peter didn't want to dwell on that thought for too long so he turned around and started walking towards the diner he'd seen down the road. Stiles would be more tolerable after an unhealthy dose of caffeine.

The diner was almost empty, only two women were nursing their coffee. Judging by the looks of the two they were on their way to work but not quite awake enough for that, hence the coffee. They looked up when Peter entered the diner and for a long moment they were staring at him.

"We don't see new faces around here often." The waitress came out of the kitchen with a full pot of coffee. The other women had stuck their heads together now, only glancing in his direction when they thought he wouldn't notice and they were talking in hushed voices but this one, her name tag read Jane, gave him a death glare right on.

"Well, now you have me." Peter gave her a toothy smile. "I need breakfast to go. For me and my friends. I take you know them? Stiles and … Derek?" He managed to keep on his happy face but acknowledging the shade as Derek was still not easy.

"Sure." She put a hand on her hip, the other one still holding the pot of coffee. Peter couldn't help but wonder if she was ready to throw it at him. "Their usual?"

It came as a surprise that they had been here often enough to have usuals but Peter just nodded and added his own order.

"Heard you caused quite some trouble yesterday," Jane said but she did pour him a coffee while he waited for his food.

"Just a small misunderstanding." Peter shrugged it off. "My nephew and I are good now." He delivered the line with a smile but on the inside, it was tearing him apart, this thing was not his nephew.

Peter left the diner not much later with a tray with three cups of coffee and a bag with pancakes for Stiles, a cream cheese bagel for himself and a sandwich for Derek. Apparently, the shade was not a morning person but would like a sandwich in a few hours. Looked like Stiles hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that the shade had come to life. So far their interaction had consisted of claws and teeth and the desire to kill each other so he couldn't really tell but Peter had the feeling that he would spend most of the day with his _nephew_ , more than enough time to see for himself. Depending on how long Stiles could hold the spell. Usually, Stiles dismissed his shades once he didn't need them any longer and Peter hadn't seen one that had lasted longer than half an hour.

Peter only made it half-way back to the motel. He had just stopped feeling eyes on his back from the diner when a police car came to a halt next to him. Inwardly Peter groaned but for now, he decided to play nice.

"Something wrong, officer?" Peter asked the man getting out of the car. It was the same officer who had been so friendly with the owners of the motel yesterday. Great. Peter felt his smile slip into a snarl. He hadn't been in this town for a day and it was already getting on his nerves.

"Peter Hale," the officer said and then he was standing right in front of him, hands on his hips, the fingers of his right hand resting on his gun. It was a poor attempt to look threatening.

Peter had faced down scarier things than a small town cop, this guy was kind of adorable.

"Officer." Peter gave him a nod and waited for him to continue.

"I ran your name."

Of course he had, Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"You had run-ins with the law all over the country," the officer continued. He puffed out his chest, most likely feeling like a big cop for the first time. "International as well."

Peter doubted that he had gotten all the information, quite a lot wasn't attached to his real name, but it was enough to make him look like bad news on the scale of this town.

"Never convicted." Peter gave him his best feral grin. He raised his hands with the tray in one and the bag in the other. "Is there something I can help you with, officer? My breakfast is getting cold."

The officer did let him go but not without the obligatory warning to not cause trouble in his town or else.

"Such lovely people," Peter muttered under his breath when he finally reached the parking lot of the motel. Why Stiles had decided to stop here of all places was beyond him.

He knocked at Stiles' door and half-expected the shade to open it but it was Stiles. His hair was still wet but he was fully dressed.

"I brought coffee." Peter lifted the tray for Stiles to get a whiff.

"I think I love you." Stiles hurried to hobble out of the way and then, after an awkward struggle with his crutches, he was sitting at the table and making grabby hands at the coffee. Some things never changed. Peter handed him his cup and sat down across from him.

"It smells like sex in here." Peter made a point of wrinkling his nose over the offending smell. That the shade had come to some kind of life was one thing but that Stiles was still sleeping with it …

Peter wouldn't trust himself with moral decisions but even he knew that this was all kinds of wrong.

"It was a long night." Stiles took a long swig of his coffee. Looking at him more closely Peter noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. It reminded him of the nights when Stiles had been fighting with nightmares, sometimes literally, but he'd thought that he was over it.

"Didn't get much sleep?" Peter asked and busied himself with setting out the food. "Where's … Derek?" He could tell that they were alone, the shade wasn't hiding in the bathroom or something like that.

"I'll summon him in a moment." Stiles took the container with the pancakes and set the sandwich aside. According to Jane from the diner, Derek wouldn't eat it right away anyway. "I wanted to talk to you first."

Stiles had given him the basics yesterday but they both had been too tired to touch the deep parts. They had thrown together a flimsy cover story and had left it at that. Which would blow up in their faces once that nosy cop looked deeper into Peter's history and found out that he was the sole survivor of the fire that had killed his whole family. Derek included.

"First of all, be nice to him. He already thinks that you don't like him," Stiles said around a mouth full of pancake. "Nothing of this is his fault. If you want to get mad at somebody, get mad at me." He fixed him with a stern look and pointed his fork at him for good measure. Stiles had syrup on his chin but he was still more threatening than that cop earlier could ever be. And he meant it. Peter didn't know what was going on between Stiles and that shade, aside from the sex, but Stiles was in protective mode. He would protect Derek. Even from Peter.

"I'm not mad." Peter took a sip of his coffee which was a good excuse to break eye contact. "Neither with you nor with him. But you have to admit that this is fucked up."

"Tell me something new."

"And second?" Peter prompted when Stiles was too busy stuffing his face with pancakes to give the rest of his little speech.

"You're going to help me," Stiles told him. "We're going to make the spell permanent. And we're going to free him, make him completely independent."

"Are we now?" Peter gave him an unimpressed look over the rim of his cup.

Stiles gave him a nod, cheeks puffed out with too much pancake. For a moment it looked like the bite would get stuck in his throat but he washed it down with more coffee.

"Last night he asked me if he's real." For a second Stiles looked haunted. "He knows what he is. That his sole existence depends on me. That … I can't do that to him. He deserves more."

"Do you have any idea how to do that?" Peter asked. He couldn't work magic so his understanding was rather abstract on that matter but he'd worked with Stiles long enough to know that the usual rules didn't apply to him anyway.

"No clue. That's why I need you."

Of course.

"Just hypothetically," Peter said, not at all sold on the idea. "You succeed and your shade becomes a real boy. What if the first thing he does is to leave?"

"If that's his decision I'll respect it." Stiles didn't back down. He meant it. And he would find a way to bring Derek to life for real with or without Peter's help, Peter knew him well enough to know that.

"First I want to see for myself." Peter wasn't going to agree to this idea that easily. "I want to get to know him."

"Fair enough." Stiles closed his eyes and a second later Derek was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a green Henley and loose jeans.


	29. Chapter 29

Stiles held his breath when Peter and Derek were facing each other. The second he was there, Derek's eyes zoomed in on Peter. He was just standing there but Stiles could tell that he was ready to fight. Not that Peter was any better. He had pushed his chair back a bit and would not hesitate to leap over the table if Derek just breathed wrong. For a long moment, they were staring at each other.

"Peter brought coffee," Stiles piped up and at the same time, he glared at Peter to remind him that he had promised to play nice.

Reluctantly, without letting Peter out of his eyes, Derek sat down. Stiles put his coffee and sandwich in front of him but it took another long second for Derek to tear his eyes off Peter and focus on his breakfast.

"Chicken and Swiss cheese, the waitress said that's your favorite," Peter said, watching Derek closely. "She also said that you wouldn't eat it for breakfast."

Derek didn't even answer and just bit into his sandwich.

"I told them that Derek isn't a morning person because he didn't eat in the beginning," Stiles explained but dared to relax. It didn't look like Derek and Peter would try to kill each other again.

Peter hmmed to that and nursed his coffee while he watched Derek eating the sandwich.

"I've never seen one of your shades eat before," he said.

That got a reaction out of Derek. He looked up, locked eyes with Peter, then he shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

Stiles had made the mistake to finish his coffee at that moment and now he was snorting coffee over the table.

"I can tell who has been his role model when it comes to table manners," Peter said and without even looking at him, Peter threw some napkins at Stiles.

"You'll get along fine," Stiles said once he could breathe again.

However, Stiles had no idea how to proceed after breakfast. He had promised Derek to go virtual clothes shopping with him but other than that he didn't know what to do. Peter wanted to get to know Derek but Stiles wasn't sure if it was a good idea to let them just wander off together.

Not that there wasn't enough to do. Since he'd made the decision to make Derek a real boy, his mind was swirling with things to do. Stiles had a long list of people to call who might know something to help him out. Peter had a similar list, no doubt, but it would still take some more convincing to get him to actually use it.

Then there was the matter of Derek's identity. Stiles had to un-dead the Derek Hale who had died in the fire, preferably before Johnny had time to dig deeper into Peter's past. Which either meant hacking into the system of Beacon Hills' sheriff's department, if one could really call it hacking if Stiles knew his dad's password, or actually calling his dad and convince him to alter the files on the fire. And that was only the first step in restoring Derek's identity.

Another thing he should think about was the Nemeton. He was planning to do some serious magic here, the tree could be a key factor in his success. If it was willing to help. That small museum on local history might come in handy for that. There were most likely hints of the Nemeton's activity hidden in those documents and the retired librarian running it most likely had some stories to tell as well.

"So, what's the plan for today?" Peter asked and leaned back in his chair. "Aside from you two screwing your brains out."

"That's not part of the plan," Stiles almost yelled but Derek perked up at that comment, it might be part of his plan for the day now.

Judging by the knowing smile on Peter's lips he had noticed too. He could probably smell it.

"But seriously, what were you doing here the last days?" Peter asked. "This town is dead."

"Recovering from an accident." Stiles stretched out his leg to point out the cast. "And figuring out what's going on with Derek." He added the last part more quietly. At that Derek ducked his head as if it was all his fault. Stiles reached over and put his hand on Derek's forearm.

"None of that," he said. "Nothing of this is your fault. It's not anybody's fault. You're a happy little accident." He tried his best Bob Ross imitation for the last bit but Derek didn't seem to get the reference.

"That sounds like your condom ripped." Peter grimaced but Stiles knew him well enough to tell that it was just for show. Peter was watching and analyzing every move. Stiles just hoped that he would come to the conclusion that Derek needed their help.

Thinking about it, this was not unlike their usual gigs. Somebody supernatural needed their help with a supernatural problem, they had done this before. And for less.

However, before they could come up with a plan for the day, somebody was knocking at their door.

"Derek, would you …?" Stiles asked, careful to not outright order him to open the door but Derek was out of his seat already anyway.

"Oh, Derek," Edith greeted him with a smile. "Just the man I'm looking for."

"Don't let Theo hear that," Stiles said from his place at the table, getting up with his crutches seemed like too much of a hassle. "Please, come in."

She did come in but when she noticed Peter at the table, her face darkened.

"I don't think I introduced myself." With a charming smile, Peter got up and offered her his hand. "Peter Hale, Derek's uncle. I apologize for the inconvenience I caused yesterday."

Only Peter would call trashing a motel room and getting the police involved an inconvenience. Stiles snorted at that but Peter's charm took effect on Edith, he had to give him that. The hard look in her eyes melted a little and she did take his hand.

"Edith Davis."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." For a second Stiles was sure that Peter would kiss her hand. He could be a charming bastard if he wanted to be.

"What can we do for you?" Stiles asked before this could get awkward.

"Well." She threw a glance at Derek who was still holding the door. "I was wondering if I could borrow your boyfriend for a few hours. I have to run some errands and let's be honest, Theo's eyesight is not the best anymore. He's doing fine around town but driving into the big city …" She let out a sigh but then whipped around to make sure that her husband wasn't suddenly standing right behind her.

"Don't tell him that," she continued in a hushed voice. "He already threw a fit when I said that I wanted to ask Derek. Acted as if I wanted to ask some random stranger. He's not twenty anymore but that's not easy to accept." A wistful smile played on her lips.

Stiles doubted that it was the fact that Edith was asking someone younger for help that troubled Theo. Most likely it was the fact that Derek was a werewolf.

However, letting Derek go with Edith didn't seem like a good idea. Letting him out of his sight was one thing but the more important one was that Stiles didn't know how long Derek would last. By now a few hours weren't a problem, Stiles could hold the spell for the better part of the day. But he did need to rest and recharge from time to time, causing in-betweens as Derek called the breaks in his existence. Derek had stayed the whole night so Stiles wasn't sure if he had enough magical energy left to fuel the spell for however long Edith intended to borrow Derek.

A glance at Peter confirmed that was thinking along the same lines.

"I do happen to have some errands to run as well," Peter offered. "I could drive you."

"I was asking Derek," she said coldly. "Derek, dear. You would really help me out."

Of course, Derek's first instinct was to turn to Stiles, making it his problem.

"Don't worry about me," Stiles assured him. He wanted Derek to make his own decisions and the spell should last long enough. He was pretty sure of that. "I'm still pretty banged up, I'll just rest and watch some TV. It's your decision." The resting part was a lie but he meant the last bit and he did his best to get that across. The way Derek was looking at him, he got the message.

"I would like to help," Derek finally said.

"Thank you." Edith patted his arm and Derek actually blushed.

"It would be stupid to take two cars into the city," Peter cut in. "I'll drive and you and Derek can do your thing while I do mine."

Stiles doubted that Peter would let them out of his sight but there was no arguing with his logic so hesitantly Edith agreed to this arrangement.

"Derek, is it okay if Peter comes with you?" Stiles asked the second Edith had left to get her things.

Derek gave Peter a considering look but then he nodded.

"At least that way she won't end up dead in a ditch if he vanishes," Peter defended his offer. "No idea how I'll explain it to her, though."

This way Peter could interact with Derek without Stiles hovering in the background and influencing him in any way, Stiles got why Peter had offered to come along. Didn't mean he liked it.

"The spell should last until the afternoon. At least." Stiles tried to sound more confident than he was. Truth was, he didn't know. But he didn't want to go into this with Derek right here.

"I can tell you," Derek spoke up.

"Tell me what?" Peter raised his eyebrow at him.

"When there will be an in-between."

"You can tell?" Stiles knocked over his crutches in his haste to turn in his chair to fully look at Derek.

"When it's close." Derek nodded.

"Would somebody care to explain?" Peter asked. "What's an in-between?"

"When I'm not there."

Stiles still didn't like it but not half an hour later Peter and Derek left with Edith. If Derek felt the spell running out he would tell Peter who would come up with an excuse for kicking Derek out of the car before Edith could see things she shouldn't see. Stiles just hoped that that wouldn't become necessary. And he hoped that Derek and Peter would get along but with Edith in the mix, they should play nice.

Stiles was too restless to sit around, he would only relax once Peter and Derek were back, preferably in one piece, so he grabbed his crutches and left the room. He had no idea where he was going, maybe just a few times up and down the parking lot to work off his restless energy.

When he came to their old room, he found the door ajar and noises coming from inside.

"Hello?" With one of his crutches, Stiles pushed the door open. "Theo?"

At that, the head of the older man poked up from behind the broken bed. Stiles could have sworn it looked worse than last night but he hadn't really paid attention to that.

"Stiles." Almost sheepishly Theo scrambled to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans. "What can I do for you?"

"Peter and Derek drove into the city with Edith," Stiles said. It was stupid but he felt like he'd just sent off his child to the very first day of kindergarten.

Theo nodded grimly.

"And you swear she's safe with them?" He fixed Stiles with a stern look.

Thinking about it, the bed looked as if it had gotten some extra kicks since yesterday. And according to Edith Theo hadn't been happy about Derek driving her, adding Peter to the mix …

"She's safe, I swear," Stiles hurried to say. "They have full control and they just want to blend in. Werewolves just want to live their lives like everybody else."

Theo nodded and only now Stiles noticed the dark shadows under his eyes, looked as if he hadn't slept that much last night either. He would probably sleep better once they had left town for good. But with what Stiles had in mind he probably would need the Nemeton and this one was way more likely to help him than the one at home.

"Once again sorry for trashing the room," Stiles changed the topic. "Anything I can do to help?"

"I could use a second hand but …" Theo gave his casted leg a pointed look.

Stiles had always been more of an improviser than a planner and he always followed his guts. And at the moment his guts were telling him that Theo needed to see some good supernatural stuff.

"I might not be a werewolf." He sat down on the other bed to get his hands free. "But I do have a trick or two up my sleeve." With that, he gestured at the broken bed and the pieces started to float.


	30. Chapter 30

Peter was driving with Edith sitting in the passenger seat and Derek in the back. Derek didn't like it.

Edith didn't like it either, she kept glancing at Peter and everything about her, her posture, her scent, everything, was telling Derek that she didn't want to be in the car with Peter.

Derek would have loved to flash his eyes at Peter as a warning but Stiles didn't want him to show things like that in front of humans. But he did growl at Peter. Low enough for it to get lost in the noises of the engine for Edith's ears but the other werewolf did hear him for sure.

"Relax," Peter said under his breath when he had to look to the left the next time. "We will all play nice and nobody gets hurt."

It sounded more like a threat than anything else but there wasn't much Derek could do except for staying alert.

"So, Peter," Edith broke the uncomfortable silence. "Stiles said you're Derek's uncle?"

Peter's heart skipped a beat at that and a wave of sadness hit Derek a second later but on the outside Peter smiled and confirmed that yes, he was Derek's uncle.

The rest of the drive Derek listened to Peter talking. About their family and how they didn't approve of Stiles and that he was here to show them that not everybody in the family shared that opinion. He mentioned Derek's parents, his mother was Peter's sister, and Derek's sisters, Laura and Cora.

Derek knew he was lying, he didn't have parents or sisters, but at the same time, it felt like Peter was talking about real people. People Peter cared about. By the time they reached their destination, the air in the car was so thick with sadness and a deep longing, Derek felt tears welling up in his eyes but Peter didn't show any of his emotions on the outside.

"I'm glad, you're here." Edith patted Peter's shoulder before she got out of the car.

"Old ladies, you can always get them with a sappy story," Peter said low enough for only Derek to hear. Through the rearview mirror Peter flashed him a grin.

When he got out of the car, Derek took a few deep breaths to get the smell of sadness out of his nose. His eyes were still burning and he tried to avoid looking at Peter. Stiles had told him that there had been another Derek Hale who had died a long time ago. It was clear that Peter still missed him. But not just him. Derek had the feeling that the other people Peter had been talking about were not here any longer either.

"Oh dear." Edith took one look at Derek and then she linked arms with him. "I'm sorry you had to hear those things about your family again." She offered him a tissue to dry his eyes. "But you have Stiles and Peter. And now you have Theo and me, you won't get rid of us." She gave him a smile and Derek couldn't help but smile back.

They were in the parking lot of a huge building. There were other people walking towards the entrance and others coming out and Derek had the feeling that there would be a lot of people inside. He wasn't sure if he liked that.

"Let's meet up at the car in two hours?" Peter asked and Edith agreed easily.

Before Derek hadn't liked the idea of Peter being around but when he entered the building, the same mall Stiles had wanted to take him to buy clothes for him, he guessed, Derek changed his mind. He hadn't seen past the entrance so far but he could already tell that it was full and loud and it smelled like a million things at once.

Peter walked off in one direction and Edith was dragging him in another and Derek didn't know what to do. He almost called out for Peter to stay but that moment was gone and so was Peter.

Derek really wished that Stiles was there. Why hadn't he just come with them?

At least Edith seemed to know where she was going so Derek just clung to her arm. He didn't know what he would do if he lost her in the crowd. A part of him knew that he would only have to wait it out. There would be an in-between at some point and he would be back with Stiles once he was there again but a bigger part of him just panicked with the overload of impressions.

They entered a store and that was better. There were still too many people in here but they were not as close as outside. There was no danger of people bumping into him. Breathing easier Derek followed Edith around and when she asked if he liked the blue or the green scarf better, he actually thought about it and pointed at the green one.

Once he had calmed down a bit, Derek noticed something. Peter was following them. He only caught a glimpse of him here and there but he didn't need to see him to know that the other werewolf was close. Watching. It was a comforting thought.

Derek followed Edith out of one store and into another. And another one after that. He'd long lost orientation but that didn't worry him any longer. Peter was still following them so even if he lost Edith in the crowd the other werewolf would still be close. So Derek just carried the growing number of bags and took in his surroundings. With the initial panic gone it was quite interesting. The things in the windows, the people around him and some places smelled really good, like coffee and baked goods.

"Need a break?" Edith pulled him out of his thoughts. She had taken his arm again without him even noticing. He might have gotten lost in the smell coming from that little coffee shop right ahead.

"No," Derek answered. He wasn't exhausted or tired, the bags he was carrying weren't heavy, he could still go for quite a while.

"Sure." She patted his arm and started to walk over to the coffee shop with him in tow.

A few minutes later Derek had a coffee and a still warm banana-chocolate muffin in front of him. It made his mouth water.

"A little thank you," Edith explained and reached for her own muffin. "By now Theo would be a whining toddler I would have to drag around the mall."

Derek didn't understand what she meant with that but he nodded, focus on the muffin. It tasted even better than it smelled.

"I'm kind of glad that we don't have any other guests at the moment," Edith commented with a chuckle.

"Why?" Derek asked with his mouth full of warm goodness.

"You are a vocal one," she said with a pointed look at his half-eaten muffin. Derek didn't get it but as long as there was some of the muffin left, he didn't care. When it was gone he leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

Edith hid her face behind her cup of coffee. She might even be blushing and what Derek caught of her scent was a wild mixture he couldn't quite read but nothing coming from her felt bad so Derek just enjoyed the moment.

They still had some errands to run so they left the coffee shop shortly after and jumped back into the crowd outside. By now Derek had gotten used to this many people around but he was already looking forward to Stiles and their quiet motel room. Compared to the mall even Stiles counted as quiet.

Peter was lurking around the rest of the time as well but he still managed to already wait at the car when they left the mall.

Derek put the bags in the trunk while Peter held the door open for Edith and then they were back on their way.

When they reached the motel, Peter told Edith to go ahead, they would bring her things in but when Derek opened the trunk to get the bags, Peter stopped him.

"Stiles wants to make you permanent," Peter said.

"Yes." It hadn't been a question but Derek felt the need to answer nevertheless.

"He wants to officially make you my presumed dead nephew." Peter's face was unreadable.

"Yes?" Derek hadn't known that detail but he trusted Stiles.

Peter studied him for a long moment.

"What makes you so special that you deserve the life he never had?"


	31. Chapter 31

With keeping Derek around almost constantly and with his still healing body, Stiles didn't have much magic left to spare but it was enough to impress Theo.

When the broken parts of the bed started to float, the older man jumped back with a surprised yelp but when the bed did nothing else and just kept floating, he threw a glance at Stiles and then he hesitantly stepped closer.

"You're doing this?" He asked and with the tip of a finger, he gave the closest part a little push. It rotated a bit.

"Yeah." Stiles gave him a broad grin. "But I can't do it all day, you better get going."

Theo didn't trust the floating parts but he did reach for his tools again. With Stiles holding the parts for him, it was easy to bring the broken bits back together and with a few nails and some glue, the bed was as good as new. When he sat it down, Stiles made sure to put pressure into it to keep the parts together until the glue had dried.

While he had been working Theo hadn't said much but now he was looking at the bed and then at Stiles, the questions hanging heavy in the air.

"You said you're not a werewolf," Theo broke the silence. "So what are you?"

"It's called a Spark," Stiles explained. "I'm basically human, no super-strength or healing like werewolves have. But I can work magic."

"Magic?" Theo sounded still skeptical.

"C'mon." Stiles made an impatient gesture. "You can't tell me you didn't grow up with tales about the woods around here. You have a giant magic tree basically in your backyard and I know what kind of stuff does happen around those."

"Tree? What tree?" Theo acted surprised, maybe he was but only on the surface. It was clearly written on his face that there had been tales. Maybe warnings to not go out into the woods at night or under a full moon. Things old people said. Which were just that, stories to scare the children, but Stiles would bet money that Theo and everybody else around here would never even consider going out into the woods at certain times. Or to certain places.

Theo had heard the stories and deep down, on a subconscious level, he believed them. That was the reason he had accepted werewolves so easily and why he hadn't run screaming when Stiles showed him his magic.

Stiles gave him a brief summary of the supernatural world around him. Nothing major, just that there were supernatural creatures living among humans and that there was magic everywhere around. He didn't go into specifics about Derek and since Theo didn't ask, Stiles felt no need to bring it up himself.

"For the most part, everybody just wants to live their lives."

"Why are you even telling me this?" Theo asked. He had dared to sit down on one of the chairs and he didn't look as if he was about to run. He probably wanted to call Stiles nuts but he had seen Derek and he had just fixed a bed floating in mid-air, it was hard to argue that away.

"You saw Derek and I know how scary a wolfed out werewolf looks like. He had blood dripping off his claws!" Stiles made a claw with his hands to illustrate his point. "That's pretty scary. I wanted to let you know that we're not monsters. Edith is safe with Derek and Peter, I swear."

Theo went back to work, the wall still needed fixing, and while his hands were busy he asked the questions which had been piling up in his mind since yesterday.

If werewolves turned into full wolves or if it was just the man-wolf thing he had seen last night. Theo found the man-wolf thing scarier and had secretly hoped to see a real wolf, Stiles found out after some coaxing.

If werewolves lost control under the full moon, which was soon in case Stiles didn't know. Which of course he knew, he was living with werewolves and some kinds of magic were aligned with the moon as well. Not that Stiles usually cared much about that, his magic was more intuitive than ritualistic.

That led to more questions about Stiles and his magic which Stiles answered freely without going into details. The last thing he wanted was somebody dabbling in magic who had no business dabbling in magic. Which reminded him of Ben the werewolf. Stiles should ask about him when he was calling the coven for his own little problem.

Then he was telling the story of the werewolf who fucked up part of his packs territory with dark magic. And since he had nothing better to do and Theo was a willing victim, Stiles told him more war stories. Preferably from the time he had been on the road with Peter, it couldn't hurt to put Peter in a good light. Stiles left out some details.

"So." Theo fixed Stiles with a considering look. "You and Derek, are you really just here because you're on the run from his family or is there something going on here I should know about?"

"You are a smart man." Stiles nodded, impressed. "But no, this is not a job. We really ended up here by chance. But you have a Nemeton, that might help us with a personal problem so if you're okay with it, we'd like to stay for a little while longer."

Theo had said that he had to sleep over it but now he just nodded and said: "Of course." He was curious about the personal problem, that much was obvious, but before he found the words to get to that question, a car pulled into the parking lot.

"It's them," Stiles said when he caught a glimpse of Peter's car through the still open door. Neither mentioned it but they both breathed easier when they saw all three of them getting out of the car. Peter, being the gentleman he could be if it served him right, waved Edith to go ahead while he and Derek turned towards the trunk to get her things, no doubt.

Stiles was too far away to hear what the two men were saying and then he got distracted by Edith who had come their way.

"Stiles, didn't you want to rest?" She asked in a mom voice that made Stiles smile.

"Thought Theo could use some company."

She inspected the room and seemed satisfied with the progress but when she heard that Stiles had helped, Theo got an earful. Stiles was their guest and he was injured and he should rest. It didn't matter when Stiles pointed out that the room had been trashed because of him and his friends in the first place.

Anyway, they got another invitation for dinner as a little _thank you_ out of this. As if Edith needed an excuse to invite them over. And this time even Peter was invited and Stiles got that this was her way to apologize for the rude welcome he had gotten the other day.

Stiles went back to his room, where Peter and Derek were already waiting for him, with the good feeling that nothing had changed with Edith and Theo.

However, the tension between Peter and Derek was palpable. The second Stiles entered the room, Derek was on him, his nose buried in Stiles' neck and he inhaled deeply to breathe in his scent.

"Whoa," Stiles made when Derek almost knocked him over. He lost one crutch and let go of the second one willingly to hug Derek back. Derek had him in a tight embrace, face firmly attached to the line of his neck and he showed no intention to ever let go.

Over Derek's head, Stiles locked eyes with Peter who was watching them with an unreadable expression.

"Do I dare to ask how your trip went?" Stiles asked instead of openly accusing Peter of … doing something.

"Shadow boy was a bit overwhelmed by the mall." Peter shrugged but Stiles had seen them at the car. He hadn't been able to hear what Peter had said but he knew Peter.

"Derek?" Stile cupped the back of his head to show him that he didn't have to let go to answer his question. "Did something bad happen?"

Derek shook his head with a mumbled "no", his beard scratching over the soft skin of Stiles' neck.

Before Stiles could get to the bottom of this, he suddenly had his arms full of shadows. He tried to keep his balance but a second later he was sitting on his ass. At least he managed to brace himself with one arm but it was the one he'd twisted in the accident.

"Shit!" Stiles cried out and cradled his arm.

"You okay?" Peter watched him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah." He made and carefully moved his fingers and wrist. It hurt but not too bad. But he did use magic to get up and over to the bed since Peter made no attempt to help him.

"Okay, what was that?" Stiles asked once he was sitting on the bed. He was tempted to summon Derek again but he knew that the shade would only last minutes. Stiles needed to recharge first.

"Like I said, the mall was a bit much for him. Sensory overload, he is an alpha after all." Peter sat down next to him and took Stiles' hand. The throbbing pain immediately abated. "His first time out alone in the big world?"

"If you don't count the diner." Stiles let out a sigh, he should have known. But he had wanted Peter to get to know Derek without him looming in the background.

"And maybe because we had a little heart to heart earlier," Peter said casually.

"You what?" Stiles yanked his hand out of Peter's grip. "Are you insane?"

"It's been said."

"What did you say to him?" Stiles felt his voice rise with every word. "Nothing of this was his choice. He didn't choose to come to life. He didn't choose his name. He didn't even choose his own damn clothes." Now Stiles was yelling at him. "You have every right to be mad because of his name but be mad with me. This one is totally on me."

Peter studied him for a long moment.

"I'm not mad," he said. He'd said it before but Stiles was still not sure if it was true. "It's just …" Peter let out a sigh.

"Yeah." Stiles made. The whole situation was messed up, he knew that.

They sat like that for a moment but silence never sat well with Stiles.

"What did he say?"

Peter just gave him a look.

"Derek," Stiles clarified. "When you had your heart to heart." He made the air quotes. "Or should I say interrogation?"

Peter was sitting with his hands hanging between his knees and that was where he was looking at.

"He thanked me," he finally said.

"What for?" Stiles was able to read Peter quite well but most of the time he had no idea what was going on in Derek's head.

"For watching out for him." Peter shook his head with a smile. "For not leaving him alone in the big scary mall."

"You actually stayed with them? Thought you would stalk them." Watching and observing from afar, that was more Peter's style.

"I did." The smile on his lips widened. "He found it comforting."

Stiles stared at him, not sure if he'd heard right. Getting stalked by Peter was anything but comforting. On the other hand, Derek was anything but normal himself.

It was still a funny thought. Stiles marveled over it for a moment but then he sobered up.

"So," he drew out the word. "Are you going to help us?"

Peter gave him another look.

"I don't know much about magic but I'm pretty sure it's frowned upon to create life like this," Peter said but just for good measure, they both knew that. "If it's possible, and that is a big if, it will come with a price tag."

"I know that." Stiles nodded. He had thought about this for a while now. They were most likely talking about black magic here. "But it can't hurt to look into it. If there is a way, we can still decide if we actually do it or not."

If there was a way, Stiles would do it, damn the costs, he knew that. Maybe not outright murdering someone. Maybe …


	32. Chapter 32

Stiles wouldn't be able to summon Derek and keep him for longer than a few minutes any time soon so he wanted to use the time to make some calls. The only question was if Peter would help him or not.

Peter still hadn't answered that question. He was just sitting there on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and a distant look on his face. Stiles knew that this decision would have been so much simpler if he'd only picked another name for the shade. But this way he wasn't just asking Peter to help him to bring that shade to life, he was also asking him to pretend that this Derek was his dead nephew.

"You sure you want to do this?" Peter asked, probably knowing full well that it wouldn't stay at just research. If there was a way to bring Derek to life for real, they would do it.

"Yes," Stiles said without hesitation. "I can't leave him like this. I can't."

"And not just because he's a nice fuck?"

"Even if the first thing he does is to leave and never come back." Stiles locked eyes with Peter but he knew that every signal the werewolf was getting from him, was telling him that he meant it.

"Where do you want to start?" Peter asked and with that, it was settled.

They started with phone calls. Peter went over to his room so that they both could make the calls without talking over each other. And so that Stiles couldn't get his hands on some numbers Peter didn't want him to have, Stiles guessed but he hadn't expected anything else from Peter.

Since he wanted to check on Ben anyway, Stiles called Heather the head of the coven he had sent the teenage werewolf to first.

"How is Ben doing?" Stiles asked once they had said their greetings.

Heather gave him a quick update but it looked as if the werewolf was doing well. Like Stiles had suspected, he had quite some magic potential and Heather had sent one of her witches to the pack to train with him twice a week.

"How did Miranda take it?" Stiles remembered all too well how protective the alpha had been of her pack. Letting a stranger in was a big deal for her.

"My girl is not living with the pack, Ben comes to her. Usually with his mother," Heather explained. "There was some mistrust at first but it's been almost three weeks and they're getting along now."

Had it really been three weeks? It felt longer and shorter at the same time. But Stiles hadn't really paid attention to the days passing.

However, Ben wasn't the main reason for his call.

"What can you tell me about shades?"

From the top of her head, Heather couldn't tell him anything he didn't already know but it brought them on topic.

"Is there a way to make a shade permanent?" Stiles asked.

"Stiles," Heather said in a stern voice. "What are you up to?"

So he told her about Derek. At least the basics, he had no intention to tell her about the sex and that they were sleeping in the same bed most nights.

"And now you want him as your what? Familiar? Slave?" The outraged was clear in her voice. "You're disgusting. I thought you were on the right side but I was clearly wrong."

"Whoa," Stiles made. "I'm trying to do the right thing here. I don't know what happened but now I have a self-aware shade."

It took some fast talking but in the end, he could get his intentions across. At least she was willing to listen.

"Stiles, do you have any idea what you're dabbling with here?" She sounded like a mom now. "We're talking about blood magic, at least. You can't just burn some herbs under the full moon and bring him to life. You have to keep the balance."

"I know." He knew way too well that he was about to cross some serious lines here. "But I can't just leave him like this. I've exhausted my magic and can't summon him at the moment. He doesn't even exist right now. That's not … I can't …"

"Okay." She let out a sigh as if she already knew that she would regret her decision later. "I'll look into it. And I'll ask around."

"That's all I'm asking. Thank you."

They ended the call and Stiles moved on to the next one on his list.

The reaction was always the same. Outrage at the mere idea of bringing something like a shade to life and it always took Stiles several minutes to convince the person at the other end of the line that Derek already was kind of alive and that keeping him in this state was just wrong.

Still, people hung up on him twice. The others agreed to look into it but all of them warned him that he was playing with fire.

Stiles wondered if he was ruining his reputation with his question alone but he found that he didn't care.

When he was done with his first series of calls, it was almost dinner time. He wanted to wait for answers from these people first, the people on his second list usually required some kind of payment before they would even listen to his request. Besides, it was likely that some from his second list were on Peter's first, no need to call them twice.

Stiles shot Peter a message, reminding him that they were invited to dinner.

By now Stiles felt recharged enough to summon Derek but he doubted that he would last the whole night. A second later Derek was standing in the middle of the room, still in the same clothes, green Henley and loose jeans. Stiles had promised some online shopping for new clothes, they should get to that after dinner.

The second Derek was there, his eyes zoomed in on Stiles. When Derek had vanished, he had been hugging Stiles because of the emotional roller coaster the trip to the mall and Peter had put him through but now they were a few feet apart. For Stiles, it had been hours ago, for Derek only seconds.

"Hey," Stiles greeted him. "You okay?"

Derek gave him a sharp not but when Stiles patted the mattress next to him, Derek hurried to sit down. Then he had his face buried in Stiles' neck.

"Do I smell like Peter again?" Stiles tilted his head to give him better access. This was werewolf behavior, Derek was seeking comfort and closeness.

"Not that much," Derek answered but didn't lift his head. He didn't stop with the scenting when there was a knock at the door either.

"Come in," Stiles said, it was most likely Peter anyway no reason to push Derek away for him.

Peter came in and when he noticed them sitting on the bed, Derek hugging Stiles from the side with his face buried in his neck, he just rolled his eyes at them.

"Am I interrupting something?"

At that, Derek did lift his head and growled at him. Stiles couldn't see his eyes but he was sure that they were red.

"I'm not going to take him away." Peter raised his hands to show how harmless he was. Which he was not, Stiles was well aware of that, but at the moment Peter had no intention to harm Derek.

"You're not his beta, of course, he's wary," Stiles defended Derek while he made a point of hugging him back. After a second Derek went back to scenting him.

"Neither are you." Peter closed the door and came farther into the room.

So far Stiles had been mostly worried about Derek becoming a person, he hadn't really thought about him being an alpha werewolf. An alpha without a pack.

But one problem at the time. First, they had to make Derek permanent. And free him. Stiles didn't want a slave no matter what his contacts might think.

"Any luck?" Stiles asked while Derek ran his nose one last time over his neck before he sat up straight again. Their shoulders were still touching.

"I'm getting some texts emailed, there might be something in there," Peter said vaguely. "Otherwise I'm waiting for people to call me back. You?"

"Same. Minus the texts." Stiles let out a sigh, waiting was always the hardest part. "Wasn't easy to convince them that I'm not going dark side."

Peter gave him an amused look while Derek just looked confused.

"We're asking around to find a way to make your spell permanent," Stiles explained but then he turned back to Peter. "While we wait for call-backs I want to check out the local library and that museum Edith had talked about. And we should take to Dough, if there are rumors about the area around here, he knows them."

"Sure you're not just wasting your time with that?" Peter didn't sound convinced.

"We have a powerful Nemeton right here and I have the feeling that we'll need that power." A Nemeton was neutral but if it was willing to help, it could counter the grittier parts of whatever they had to do to make Derek real.

"Stiles?" Derek asked. Most of their conversation must have gone over his head, they hadn't really bothered to tell him about the research phase. "Is this going to be dangerous? For you?"

"We don't know yet," Stiles said vaguely. "We're asking around to find out if there even is a way."

"Magic is exhausting for you, I can see that," Derek said, revealing that he had a pretty good idea of what spamming the summoning spell was doing to Stiles. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

It was such an innocent thought, it made Stiles smile. With the kind of magic they were talking about here, exhaustion was the least of his worries.

"He's going to be lucky if draining his magic is all it costs," Peter spoke up. Stiles threw him a glare to shut him up but Peter ignored him. "We're talking black magic here. It always comes with a price. And it doesn't forgive mistakes. You're gambling with your life if you try your hands on black magic. Or worse."

"No." Derek shook his head. "Don't do that."

"We don't even know what kind of risk we're talking about here, at the moment we're just looking," Stiles tried to reassure him. "And we won't do anything without you. This is about you, you have a say in this."

Derek looked him square in the eye, dead serious. "I won't let you get hurt."

Stiles didn't know if this was his programming talking, every shade was hardwired to protect Stiles at all costs, or if this was Derek being worried about him. Either way, Derek had made his point. It would take some convincing to get him on board.

Stiles didn't know if Derek would have to be there for the whole process or if he had to be summoned at the end. For the latter, Stiles could just do it without his permission. Or he could order him to participate. He could. But that would kill whatever trust Derek had in him. If Stiles went behind his back with this, Derek would leave and never come back. At least if he was smart.

"I won't do anything you're not okay with," Stiles promised and he counted on his heart-beat to tell Derek that he was telling the truth. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Peter who was watching the whole exchange with interest. Of course, he had only told Derek about the risks to see his reaction, Stiles knew that and he couldn't even be mad at him. He would have done the same in his position. Peter wanted to know what made Derek tick.

"There was something about dinner," Peter broke the moment and rubbed his hands. "I'm starving."

"Right, Edith's waiting." Glad for the change of topic Stiles reached for his crutches.

Edith was indeed waiting for them.

They had been over for dinner a few times by now and Stiles enjoyed the home-cooked meals and the company but today, with Peter in the mix, the tension over the table was palpable.

Edith had gotten to know Peter a little but he was still a stranger to Theo. Plus, there was the whole werewolf thing.

It got better when Stiles remembered the fishing date Theo had with Bobby tomorrow. Stiles didn't know jack about fishing but it was enough to engage the older man in a conversation and soon Theo was telling stories.

"... not as big as Old Pete, though. But man, that was one hell of a fish." Theo spread his arms to demonstrate how big the fish had been. "We had catfish for a week."

"Who is old Pete?" Peter asked and with that, the ice was broken. Over the next hour he, and with him Stiles and Derek as well, learned more about one specific catfish than they ever wanted. And Stiles had thought Dough and Oscar had been bad when it came to this fish.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N** _NaNoWriMo starts this week and I have no idea if I can keep up my posting schedule. But I should come out of November with this story finished and a good chunk of a new one. But we'll see._

* * *

After dinner, they wished Edith and Theo a good night and went back to their rooms. Stiles didn't know what Peter's plans for the evening were but he and Derek had some virtual shopping to do. Stiles had promised Derek some clothes of his own, it was the least he could do for him at the moment.

They got comfortable on the bed with their backs against the headboard and the laptop on Stiles' outstretched legs. It was a bit wobbly because of one edge sitting on his cast but Derek pressed his leg against Stiles' to stabilize the laptop.

 _That should work_ , Stiles thought but suddenly he was hyper-aware of Derek's body pressed against his. Stiles shook his head, this was not the moment to get distracted.

"Okay, anything you like in general?" Stiles asked while he opened the website he had in mind for this.

Derek couldn't tell him more aside from the fact that he really liked the loose jeans, which was still a pity, he had a fine ass for tight jeans, and that the Henley was nice too. Other than that he didn't seem to have any preferences.

So Stiles started with jeans and just browsed through the pictures. It didn't take long and they had a few of them on the wish list. Dark blue and black, Stiles shouldn't be surprised that Derek preferred the darker tones. It got along well with his brooding face and the overall bad guy vibe he had going on. Nobody would guess that Derek was just a big softy on the inside.

"How about this one?" Stiles clicked on some pants in an ugly mustard yellow. It came up with the suggestion of a t-shirt with stripes in the same color altered with some kind of dirty blue. Stiles vaguely remembered having a shirt like this when he'd been a teenager. He couldn't remember how he got it but he was pretty sure he'd burned it at some point.

"I don't think that would fit." Derek squinted at the screen. The man in the picture was trying his best to own the outfit some sick bastard had put him in but even his confident posture didn't make his ugly clothes any more wearable.

"As long as I can imagine you in it," Stiles teased him with a little shoulder bump. He actually could see Derek's ass in those pants and his biceps bulging under the short sleeve of the t-shirt. He could almost ignore the ugly colors.

"No," Derek said firmly but there was a hint of worry in his voice.

"I'm just joking," Stiles hurried to assure him. "You're not going to wear that."

Derek could say no, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Stiles could simply choose to ignore it. And for a second Derek had been worried that Stiles would do exactly that. Maybe as a joke, something to laugh about, but nevertheless he could just stomp over Derek' boundaries.

"Derek." Stiles put the laptop aside and twisted a little to actually look at him. "I'm not going to go over your head. If you say no, I will respect that."

This was important. Stiles had stressed this point when they had slept together for real the first time but he felt the need to emphasize it again.

"And I'm not just talking about a t-shirt here," Stiles clarified. "I'm talking about everything. You can say no. To everything. To whatever you don't feel comfortable with. And especially when it comes to sex." That was still the biggest issue on Stiles' mind. What if Derek didn't really want to do something but went along with it just to please Stiles?

However, for once sex was not where Derek's mind went.

"What if I say no to making the spell permanent?" He asked quietly but he was looking Stiles straight in the eye, challenging. For the first time, Stiles was fully aware of the fact that Derek was an alpha werewolf. He didn't flash his eyes or showed his fangs but the look he was giving Stiles sent shivers down his spine. This was an apex predator and Stiles was the prey.

"I'm not going to do anything without your permission." Stiles had to look away, he couldn't hold Derek's gaze. Not because he wasn't telling the truth, no this was werewolf behavior. A beta submitting to his alpha.

"At the moment we're just gathering information," Stiles continued. "Once we know if and how we can make you stay we'll talk about it. Weighting the costs." Not sure what to do with his hands, Stiles reached for the laptop again. He clicked through a few pictures, worrying his bottom lip. Derek's question was echoing in his head. Was it a test or did he really mean it? Why wouldn't he want the spell to become permanent?

"Don't you want to become real?" The question finally burst out of him.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"That was not the question," Stiles said with more steel in his voice than expected. He snapped his mouth shut but it was too late, the order was already out and Derek had started talking.

"I don't know," he said and against his own leg, Stiles felt Derek's leg tensing up. As if he was fighting against the order but his mouth kept talking. Stiles knew he could stop him with one word but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I don't know what you mean by more," Derek admitted. "I've seen other people, they are not as close as we are. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose you. I can't be without you." There was a moment of silence. Derek was visibly fighting his next words but they came out a whisper nevertheless. "I'm afraid."

"Stop talking," Stiles finally managed to say and Derek snapped his mouth shut. "I'm sorry." Stiles reached for Derek and for a moment he was afraid that his touch wasn't welcomed any longer but Derek actually leaned into the hand on his cheek.

"I didn't mean to order you to tell me," Stiles said and cursed himself for not stopping him sooner. "There won't happen anything without your permission. And you won't lose me. No matter what. Promise."

Derek let out a breath.

"I know this is big and it's okay to be afraid." Stiles ducked his head to look him in the eye. "I'm afraid too. This kind of magic is dangerous, I'm aware of that, but I can't just leave you in this half-state. I just can't."

Derek nodded, his beard scratching over the palm of Stiles' hand.

"I just forced you to spill your guts." Stiles thought about what Derek had told him, things he willingly would never have said out loud and which he had been clearly fighting. "That's not right."

"It's okay." Derek was quick to forgive him but it didn't sit right with Stiles. He hadn't meant to make it an order. And with his rambling all day, who knew how many unintentional orders he had given Derek so far? How many would he give him tomorrow?

"It's not," Stiles said. "From now on, I will start every order with your name. Like _Simon Says_ but with your name. If I don't say your name first, it's not an order. Do you understand?"

"Who is Simon?" Derek asked and for a moment Stiles couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

" _Simon Says_ is a child's game," Stiles explained just in case. "Do you understand the new rule?"

"Yes."

"Okay, do some sit-ups," Stiles ordered just to test their new arrangement. Derek gave him a look and got more comfortable on the bed. Stiles grinned at him and put the laptop back on their legs. They still had some shopping to do.

Their wish list got rather long but when they finally called it quits, Derek had a full outfit with pants, shirts, sweatshirts and -pants because he needed something comfy as well. Jackets, shoes and a full suit. Stiles had no idea when or if Derek would ever need one but damn the thought of him in a sharp suit alone did things to him.

They had just added socks to the list, Derek only wanted black ones but Stiles had convinced him to pick some with a wolf as well. They were still on the gray scale, of course they were.

"Okay, what do you want to wear next time?" Stiles asked, slowly scrolling through the list.

Derek picked some jeans and a shirt not unlike the one he'd been wearing lately and then, after a moment of hesitation, he pointed at the wolf socks.

Stiles took a moment to visualize the outfit on Derek so he would get it right when he summoned him tomorrow but then he shut the laptop and set it aside.

"Time for bed?" He asked and reached for his crutches to get to the bathroom to get ready for the night.

When he came back in his sleepwear, t-shirt and boxers, and slipped under the covers, he found Derek lying there naked.

"Now I feel overdressed," Stiles muttered but let his head rest on Derek's shoulder. The open way Derek welcomed him in bed felt nice, he could get used to it. Stiles spread his fingers over Derek's sternum and for a moment he got lost in the steady up and down of his chest.

"You said, you're afraid," Stiles said after a moment. The room was dark and Derek was holding him in his arms, safe and protected, he could get used to that too. "I'm scared too." He'd said it earlier but now it felt more honest. "But no matter the outcome, I don't regret you. I could never regret you."

Derek didn't say a word but he twisted a little and then their lips met. They kissed slow and tender at first but it didn't take long for their kiss became more hungry and for their hands to wander. Derek was already naked and Stiles took full advantage of it, letting his hand run over firm muscles under smooth skin.

"I did a fine job with your body." Stiles' hand landed on Derek's butt cheek and gave it a squeeze. "Like some Greek god or something."

Derek paused, his hand under Stiles' shirt and now resting between his shoulder blades.

"But you know what I like even more?" Stiles ground his hips against Derek's bare leg. He was still overdressed for this.

"No?"

Stiles could tell that Derek didn't like being just a nice body for Stiles but Stiles wasn't above letting him squirm for just a few seconds longer. He leaned in and kissed him right behind the ear.

"You," he whispered. "I really like you. The part of you I didn't make up, the part you defined for yourself."

"Really?"

Stiles couldn't quite make out his face but the hope and relief in that one little word were palpable.

"Really." Stiles kissed him again and Derek just melted into him. "And now fuck me. I want to feel you."

Derek kissed him again but this time Stiles felt him smile against his lips.

"You didn't say my name," Derek teased while he slipped his hand under the waistband of Stiles' boxers. Just a brush of fingers over the swell of his ass. "Why should I?"

Those words went straight to Stiles' cock. He was tenting his boxers and shamelessly pushing his butt into Derek's hand. He'd never thought that consensualness was such a turn on for him.

"Please, Derek. Fuck me. Please."

"Hmm," Derek made but the hard line of his erection betrayed him when his hips were moving in sync with Stiles.

Derek took his time. Slowly he got Stiles out of his clothes and then he urged him to lie on his front. But instead of just opening him up with his fingers to get to the fucking part already, Derek got comfy between Stiles' legs, spread his cheeks and then he licked with his broad tongue right over Stiles' entrance, making him moan.

By the time Derek deemed him ready, Stiles felt loose and sloppy with Derek's saliva dripping down on his balls.

"Finally." Stiles breathed in relief when Derek entered him in one smooth thrust.

Derek fucked him with long, deep thrusts and Stiles met him every time, taking him even deeper. His neglected cock was trapped beneath him but Stiles had the feeling that he could come on Derek's cock alone.

Suddenly Derek became more frantic, his thrusts more erratic and he tried to squeeze his hand under Stiles to get to his erection but Stiles swatted his hand away.

"Not gonna last," Derek gritted out and tried once again to reach for Stiles' cock.

"It's okay." Stiles was now fucking himself on Derek's cock since Derek had failed to keep up his rhythm. "You can come first. Want to feel it. Want to …"

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw swirling shadows and where he'd been stretched around Derek he was suddenly clenching down on nothingness.


	34. Chapter 34

After dinner Peter thanked Edith for having him, the meal had been delicious, said goodnight to Stiles and Derek and then he retreated to his own room. He was not sticking around for those lovebirds to watch them making hearty eyes at each other. No matter what Stiles said, that this wasn't about a nice fuck he wanted to keep, Peter wasn't blind, there were feelings involved here. And that was not a good base to make decisions on.

However, Stiles had always been strong with the feelings. He became downright vicious when it came to the ones he loved. Peter got it, he had been there himself. It had almost destroyed him, he knew that, and it had all been because of Scott's kindness that Peter had survived his vendetta.

And Stiles' even if he wouldn't call it kindness in Stiles' case. Stiles had been more curious, he had wanted to understand him. First to protect Scott who had been so foolish to take in the murderous psychopath, later just because he was Stiles and he wanted to know things. Point was, Peter got it. Stiles cared about Derek and he would do everything in his power to protect him. Even if he killed himself over it. And Peter was the fool who had agreed to help him.

Peter closed the door of his room and took a deep breath. With one point had Stiles been right, Peter was the only one he could have come to with this kind of problem and even Peter had been reluctant to help him.

Peter wasn't sure how he wanted to spend the evening, there wasn't really anything to do until they got answers from their contacts but a quiet evening didn't sit right with him tonight.

By now Stiles and Derek were most likely screwing each other's brains out so he wouldn't go near their room if he could avoid it. For his werewolf senses it came in handy that Edith had wanted him as far away as possible. Even if he strained his ears, and he only did that to satisfy the masochistic trait he must have in him, he couldn't hear anything from Stiles' room.

The town didn't offer any entertainment. There was most likely a bar but Peter was not in the mood to face the locals again, and everything else was most likely closed at this time of the night. Not that he really wanted to have another talk about fish any time soon.

However, Stiles kept talking about the Nemeton and Peter had to agree that it would most likely play a dominant role in whatever they were going to do with Derek so it couldn't hurt to introduce himself.

And maybe have a look around the area, getting a feel for things around here. He wasn't as good at sensing the magic fields as Stiles but as a werewolf, the powers of nature came somewhat natural to him. At least finding the Nemeton shouldn't be a problem. When he let his mind drift for a moment, his senses open, he felt the pull. Not as strong as in Beacon Hills, though, this one didn't seem as desperate for attention as the one at home. Which Peter counted as a good sign.

Peter was almost out of the door when his phone rang. Scott. Peter actually thought about not answering but that would only make things worse. The last thing they wanted was for Scott to send in the cavalry.

"Hello, Scott," Peter answered the phone after a long moment.

"Peter, what's going on over there?" Scott didn't waste time with greetings which was not a good sign.

"Not much," Peter answered honestly, at the moment they were twiddling their thumbs. Stiles might be twiddling with someone else's appendixes but that was none of Peter's or Scott's business.

"Then why am I getting a call from a witch about Stiles?" Scott's voice changed from the easygoing teenager he would probably never really leave behind to his alpha voice. Peter cringed but the wolf part of him wanted to bare his throat and submit.

"What did she say?" Peter asked instead of an answer.

"That Stiles is planning to do something he shouldn't do."

Scott either didn't know the details or he was trying to hold back information to get more out of Peter. Knowing Scott it was the first, the boy had never been good with interrogation.

"At the moment we're gathering information," Peter provided. "You know him, he wants to know more than is good for him."

Scott hummed to that.

"She said something about black magic," Scott offered a little more information. "Peter, you know that's dangerous. He shouldn't ..."

"I'm here to keep an eye on him."

"No offense but you're worse than him." Scott snorted but Peter could hear the concern in his voice. He and Stiles had been best friends since kindergarten, of course, he was worried about his friend. That was the reason Peter was here.

"I have it under control." Peter tried his best to sound convincing. "He's not going to do anything stupid while I'm around."

Scott actually laughed at that.

Peter managed to convince him that everything was fine with Stiles and reluctantly Scott agreed to let Peter handle this.

After they had ended the call, Peter stood in the middle of the room, tapping the phone against his chin. He wondered how long they had until Scott would come here. He had been ready to drive through the night but Peter hoped that he had been able to keep him off for a few more days.

However, it was interesting that Scott hadn't called Stiles directly. Usually, they had no qualms calling each other out on their bullshit. They were always best friends afterward again but there had been an epic screaming match with lots of sulking and smashed windows now and then. So, it was telling that Scott hadn't confronted Stiles with this.

Peter doubted that Scott really understood what black magic meant, he had a hard time accepting the fact that Stiles was doing magic at all. Scott had always been suspicious about it. Not that he was above relying on it when it came down to it.

However, Peter made a mental note to have a stern talk with whoever had given Scott that tip. They didn't need contacts who went behind their back and rattled them out to their alpha.

Suddenly the room felt too small, the air too stale. Peter yanked the door open to get some fresh air. He had been on his way out anyway before Scott had killed the mood. For a moment Peter considered killing Stiles' mood as well with this but the noises coming from their room told Peter that he wanted to stay away from it as far as possible. Whatever they were doing, there was a frustrated scream coming from Stiles right this moment, made Peter turn and run in the other direction. He got in his car and hurried to get out of the parking lot.

The Nemeton was a bright beacon in his head since he had let it in so it wasn't hard to find a road leading somewhat near it. There wouldn't be a road, most likely not even a path, leading up to the tree itself but if he could cut a few miles Peter would take it. He parked in a spot that looked like it was a popular place to start on a hiking trail, maybe joggers came here daily, but at this time of the night Peter's car was the only one around.

Peter took a deep breath and watched the black wall of the forest. There was a gap where the trail started and for now, it was heading in the right direction so Peter took it. It was pitch black under the trees but Peter didn't need any light. With his hands in his pockets, he walked down the path, taking in the smells and noises of the nightly forest. He left behind every thought about Scott and Stiles. And Derek. The last one had been the most prominent in his mind but now he allowed himself to let go of those thoughts for a while and to just enjoy the quiet walk in the woods.

After a while, the path took a turn away from the direction the beacon in his head was telling him to go so Peter left the well-used path and stepped into the woods. Walking here was harder, he had to actually focus on where he was going and he still got caught in the underwood twice and one time he even had to backtrack a little. He could have made the jump over the creek but the other side didn't look stable enough and he really didn't want to land in the poison ivy he was smelling on the other side. So he turned around and crossed the creek half a mile upstream.

In the end, he did reach the clearing with the mighty tree in the center. Of course, it was in the center, Peter rolled his eyes. If it was in the center because of dramatic reasons or if it had something to do with its magic field was a topic he could discuss with Stiles if he really wanted an in-depth answer to this which he wasn't really sure of.

Peter stopped just behind the last trees, not stepping out into the clearing just yet. Stiles was better with this kind of thing but even Peter could tell that the big tree out there was more than just a big tree. It radiated power.

Peter let his senses scan the area for a few seconds longer but all he could sense was peace and quiet. There were the usual critters whispering through the grass and the dry leaves on the ground, the soft breeze in the trees above his head but nothing was screaming danger at him.

"I have to say." Peter stepped out into the clearing. "You're way more calm than the one at home."

The tree didn't answer.

Slowly Peter made his way over the clearing, the shadow of the branches long on him before he even reached the trunk. For a moment he was sure that the shadow was reaching for him, trying to pull him in quicker than he was willingly coming to the tree but it was not a bad feeling. It was more like an embrace, something warm and comfy, something to get lost in. On some level Peter didn't like it, he wasn't one for soft and comfy, but another part of him indulged in that feeling. The tree welcomed him.

When he was close enough, Peter put his palm flat on the rough bark and even he could feel the power thrumming through the trunk. Above him, the leaves rustled as if a shudder was going through the whole being.

"Stiles says he's been here before, you might remember him." Peter looked up into the roof of leaves above his head. The moon was only a thin sickle but its light was bright enough to cast shadows. "You probably do, he's quite memorable."

It felt kind of stupid, talking to a tree, but Peter had the feeling that it was listening. He nodded to himself and then sat down with his back against the tree. He could be wrong but even in the dark, the grass looked as if somebody had been sitting here before. When Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath he couldn't find a trace of Stiles' scent but he liked the idea that he was sitting right where he had been sitting days ago.

Getting more comfortable Peter leaned into the tree and there was the feeling of an embrace again. He wasn't sure if he was welcomed as a person or just as a werewolf but at the moment he didn't care.

"Stiles wants to do something," Peter said in a low voice, almost a whisper, but he was sure that the Nemeton could hear him. It might even be able to read his thoughts and even that wasn't a scary thought tonight. For once his thoughts were calm and the rage that was constantly smoldering just out of reach felt more distant.

"He's going to ask you for something," Peter continued. "He's going to ask for your help."

He didn't know what he actually wanted here. Wanted he the tree to deny Stiles? Was he trying to sabotage Stiles' plan? Or was he bagging the tree to help Stiles? To keep him alive and sane? Peter wasn't sure. On the surface, he had agreed to help him to make Derek a real boy. But deeper, in the depth of his subconsciousness, Peter wasn't sure. He didn't trust himself here. He knew himself, he knew how much he liked to see things burn.

When Peter parked his car in the lot of the motel early in the morning, he was just in time to wish Theo good luck with his fishing trip. He hadn't intended to stay out in the woods all night but time had just slipped by. While Theo drove off to meet Bobby for their fishing date, Peter dropped dead into his bed.


	35. Chapter 35

Derek liked the feeling of Stiles under him. He liked the sight of his back dotted with moles and his long neck twisted and almost bared for him. He liked how Stiles writhed and moaned, he liked knowing that it was him, that he was the one reducing Stiles to this mess.

Derek fucked him just like Stiles wanted him to but not because Stiles wanted him to and that added just that little more to this. It was Derek's decision to give Stiles what he was asking for and Derek wanted to draw this out forever.

However, he felt his own climax approaching and judging by the noises Stiles was making and how he slammed his hips into Derek with every thrust, he was almost there as well. But then Derek noticed something else. It wasn't really a feeling more a knowing but he knew that he was running out of time. He tried to tell Stiles but neither of them were in the condition for rational thought so he just tried his best to get at least Stiles there but the other man batted his hand away when Derek tried to reach around to get him to climax quicker. Derek almost howled in frustration, he needed to give Stiles this, he couldn't just leave him without finishing, that would be wrong. His own release forgotten, Derek tried again to reach for Stiles but he got pushed away once again.

"Want to feel you," Stiles said between moans and now he was the one, keeping up a rhythm by fucking himself on Derek's cock. Derek closed his eyes, the sweet release was just a few thrusts away, he could tell but at the same time he knew, he wouldn't reach it.

"Want to ..."

Derek never found out what Stiles wanted to do. There was an in-between and next thing he knew was that he was standing next to the bed and the morning sun was illuminating the room. Stiles was lying in bed, blanket pooled around his hip.

"I wasn't sure ..." Stiles started but stopped with a gesture at Derek.

Derek's brain was still too muddled, a few seconds ago he had been fucking Stiles and they both had been close and that feeling still lingered. Derek jerked his hips forward without really noticing, still chasing his release. Only then he noticed that he was still naked. And still hard.

"Come here." Stiles lifted the blanket for Derek to slip under. He was also naked but not hard, that much Derek could tell from the short glimpse he got of him before they were both covered by the blanket again.

"Can I touch you?" Stiles asked. He had his hand on Derek's bare stomach, his fingers twitching but he wasn't really doing anything. "I owe you at least a hand-job."

Derek's mind was still flooded with too many emotions and he was basically humping the blanket, the light friction might even be enough to bring him over the edge, so he just jerked his head and tears of relief pricked his eyes the second Stiles' hand closed around his shaft.

"Shhh," Stiles made and kissed him on the lips. "I got you. It's okay. I got you."

It didn't take long, just a few strokes and a twist over the head and Derek spilled his release over Stiles' hand.

"There you go." Stiles grinned down on him.

Catching his breath Derek just lay there, while his brain slowly came around.

"That was unpleasant," he muttered, his chest still heaving.

"Excuse me?" Stiles came back into view, a tissue in hand and still busy cleaning Derek's semen off his fingers. "I give awesome hand-jobs, thank you very much."

He tried to sound confident but even over the rushing of his own blood Derek could hear his heart skipping a beat.

"Not complaining about that." Derek licked his lips and then turned to face him. "The interruption."

"You're telling me." Stiles pouted and flopped down next to him. "One second you're fucking me into the mattress, you're fat cock filling me up so good, and the next second I'm gaping into the air. My asshole was blinking in surprise."

"Your what was what?" Derek choked on his own spit with that image in mind.

"My asshole." Stiles repeated louder as if that made it any better. "Blinking."

Derek stared at him for a second but then he burst out laughing.

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles tried to keep himself together but Derek could see him crumbling. "At least you didn't have to finish yourself."

"Sorry." That sobered him up, he had left Stiles hanging and that was not okay. "I tried to ..." He gestured at Stiles' lower region.

"I get that. Now." Stiles huffed but not really in frustration. He settled back and for a long moment neither of them spoke.

"You want first shower?" Stiles broke the silence because he never let the silence last for too long. "And then breakfast at the diner?"

It sounded like a plan and Derek did feel sticky.

Showering was a whole new experience. He did remember blowing Stiles in the shower but that was one of the more distant memories and it hadn't been about getting clean back then. Now Derek stepped under the hot spray to wash off sweat and come and for some reason he was more excited than he had been with the sexual activity in here. It took him a moment to adjust the temperature but then the water was just borderline to too hot and beating down on his neck and shoulders and he loved it.

"Are you jerking off in there?" Stiles' voice pierced through the thick fog now clouding the shower stall and maybe the whole bathroom.

"No!" Derek yelled back and hurried to reach for the shampoo. He hadn't touched himself but somehow he had gotten lost in the feeling of the hot water on his skin.

"Hope you left me some hot water," Stiles muttered when he finally ducked out, still damp and only wearing a towel.

Stiles slipped into the bathroom and for a moment Derek just stood there, waiting for Stiles to slip on the wet floor. Crutches and wet floors didn't go well together, he had learned that much over the last few days. Or Stiles and floors in general didn't go well together, Derek wasn't sure if the crutches added that much to the hazard. But everything stayed calm and then the shower started so he dared to breathe easier.

However, now he was standing in the middle of the room with a towel around his hips and no idea what to do next. Getting dressed was the obvious next step but he didn't have any clothes.

So he just sat down on the bed and waited for Stiles to finish in the bathroom.

Stiles' shower was much quicker than Derek's, he might have used up most of the the hot water Derek realized but didn't feel that guilty about it. It had been his first real shower.

When Stiles came out of the bathroom, he was wearing boxer briefs but nothing else. Once he was on the carpet, he wiped the tips of his crutches so he wouldn't slip and only then he noticed Derek on the bed, still dressed in his towel.

"Why didn't you …," he started but then he must have realized what the problem was. "Oh," he made. "Oh, shit. Sorry. Ehm ..."

The last Derek saw was that Stiles took both crutches in one hand to have the other one free, the hint of a gesture and then there was an in-between. This one only lasted seconds, Stiles was still standing in the same spot, hand still raised, when Derek was there again. This time clothed.

"There." Stiles grinned at him. "Better?"

Derek looked down on himself. Like promised he was wearing the clothes he had picked for today, even the wolf socks were peeking out of his boots. However, when he made a step he noticed something. He tried to adjust himself in his jeans without Stiles noticing but of course he noticed.

"What's wrong?" He asked and hastily untangled his crutches to get over to him.

"Did you just forget the underwear or do you want me to go commando?" Derek made a face but since Stiles had already noticed, he reached into his pants to sort things out down there.

"I ... what?" Stiles crashed into him and Derek could barely keep him from face-planting with his free hand. "You didn't think of underwear either."

Stiles had a point there, Derek had to give him that.

"Do you want me to change it?" Stiles asked but Derek could almost see him calculating the costs in his head. Derek didn't know how exactly it worked but as far as he understood, every time Stiles cast the spell it cost him magical energy and he'd done it twice already this morning.

"It's fine," Derek assured him. "I'm just not used to it."

"I can give you a pair of mine," Stiles offered in a rush of words. "They should fit. At least you can try. I mean if you want to. You don't have to. I can fix this the other way."

"Stiles?" Derek gave him a look. "Shut up."

In the end Derek took him up on the offer and when they left the room not much later, he was wearing a pair of Stiles' boxer briefs under his jeans. For some reason that made him smile like an idiot. At least according to Stiles.

"Is Peter coming with us?" Derek asked to get Stiles' attention off of what was going on in his pants. Stiles was radiating horny waves and that was distracting. Especially since Derek had gotten a nice hand-job this morning and Stiles hadn't.

"He said to leave him alone." Stiles shrugged and walked past Peter's door. "Long night, whatever that means."

Derek didn't mind Peter's company but he liked it better when it was just him and Stiles so he wasn't too upset that Peter didn't want to come with them.

"We can bring him breakfast later," Derek offered.

With the crutches Stiles wasn't that fast but by now he had gotten the hang of it so Derek wasn't constantly watching him in case he slipped. Or his long legs got tangled with the crutches, it had happened before. The walk to the diner was short nevertheless and Jane greeted them with a warm smile when they came in. They had missed the morning rush and there were only a few other guests in here. They sat down in their usual booth.

"Coffee?" Jane offered along with the menu.

"Yes, please." Stiles barely let her pour him a cup before he gulped down half of it. The second half he filled up again with sugar and cream, turning it into a sweet mess that hurt Derek's teeth just from looking at it.

Being sick of the sandwiches all the time, Derek actually looked at the menu. Stiles was already set on pancakes but Derek wasn't sure if he wanted something sweet for breakfast. But the scrambled eggs with bacon and toast did sound good.

"We're going to make a morning person out of you," Janet teased when she wrote down his order.

"He's full of surprises," Stiles added with a smile at him but he sobered up once they were alone again. "Is there something you want to do today?"

"Not really?" Derek didn't know what to answer to that. Stiles was the one who made the plans. "What do you want to do?"

"Well." Stiles made himself more comfortable in his seat. "I want to check out the local museum and the library, maybe talk to Dough again but that won't keep us busy the whole day. Especially if we can rope Peter into doing something as well. So if there is anything you want to do ..." He left the sentence unfinished with an encouraging gesture at Derek. "Not that there is much to do in this town." He added when Derek failed to come up with something.

"We can do what you said and then see after that?" Derek suggested when Stiles was still looking at him expectantly.

"Or that." Stiles nodded. "If nothing else I can introduce you to Netflix. Netflix and chill, if you get what I mean." Stiles winked at him but Derek had no idea what he was talking about. He was saved by Jane who brought their food.

Pleasantly stuffed, and in Stiles' case high on caffeine, they left the diner and they had even remembered to bring breakfast for Peter as well. When they knocked at his door, he took a long moment to open. His hear was sticking out in all directions and he was still wearing the t-shirt he'd slept in but his face lit up when he noticed the coffee Derek had in hand for him.

"What have you been doing all night?" Stiles shook his head and then shouldered his way into the room.

"Had a little chat with a tree."


	36. Chapter 36

"Were you out there the whole night?" Stiles asked not really surprised that Peter had been to the Nemeton. Where else would he go in this town?

"Mostly." Peter nodded over the rim of his cup of coffee. "You're right, this one is way more friendly than ours."

"Do you think it'll help us?"

"As you said, it's neutral." Peter shrugged.

Even with prodding and probing Stiles didn't get a real answer out of Peter. Not even how it had felt like being close to the tree, touching it. Stiles had the suspicion that Peter had lost some time as well but of course, he wouldn't confirm it, that bastard never gave up information easily.

However, once Peter had finished his breakfast, he excused himself to the bathroom.

"You don't need to wait for me." He basically kicked them out of the room. "Check out that museum, I'll catch up with you later."

Like Edith had said, the old librarian was running the museum in the attic of the library. At least both points of interest were in the same building, walking around on crutches was still no fun and Stiles' shoulders reminded him constantly of that fact. He really should look into moving the healing process along. But that would cost a lot of his energy which he needed for Derek. So he just had to deal with the crutches.

Of course, there was no elevator up into the attic so Stiles had to deal with the stairs as well. It wasn't too bad but the way Derek was looking at him, the werewolf must sense how much this was getting to him.

Betty, the old librarian who couldn't quite leave her job behind despite the fact that she was clearly over eighty, was delighted to see new faces in her little museum.

"We don't get many visitors around here," she said, patting Derek on the arm from where she was using him as a crutch. Not that she had needed a crutch two minutes ago when they had entered her little realm. Stiles just rolled his eyes but went with it. If she was flirting with Derek, let her. She was sweet in an old lady kind of way and Derek didn't seem upset with the soft look she was giving him.

Five more minutes later they were all sitting around a small table with cups of tea in their hands. Betty had insisted. There were cookies.

"So, what can you tell us about this place?" Stiles asked around a mouth full of cookie. He was still full from breakfast not even an hour ago but cookies …

Over the next two hours, Betty told them all about the town and the area around it. How it had been founded, the times of war and peace, the struggles and the good old times. Stiles had always liked this little pieces of history better than the big picture they had taught them in school. The big politics didn't affect small places like this, not really. What mattered were the small stories, the personal stories, and Betty knew them all. And she was more than willing to share her memories.

When Stiles nudged her into the more mystical stories, the lore around here and what kind of tales people were telling, she hesitated for a moment, that was not the topic she was usually talking about with visitors but when Stiles told her that he had always been interested in the things nobody could quite explain, she gave him a warm smile and started to talk.

There were stories about the tree, of course there were. Stories about people getting lost in the woods who lost time but found their way back safely. Others didn't come back. Some were found dead later, sometimes years later, some stayed lost forever. And it all centered around the tree.

"It's not an evil tree," Betty said. "I think it's just there. Some swear it has granted them wishes, others had prophetic dreams when they slept under it. I think that's nonsense." She busied her hands with pouring fresh tea into their cups.

"You don't believe in a magic tree?" Stiles asked with a smile.

"Oh, it is magic, that's for sure." Betty ran her hands over her skirt before she offered them more cookies. "But I doubt it cares about our little hopes and wishes. I don't know what it is but the woods out there are peaceful and I think it's because of the tree."

"You said some people vanished that doesn't sound peaceful to me," Stiles reminded her but he was with her. What he had felt from the Nemeton was peaceful, the tree didn't mean any harm. Or anything for that matter. As Betty said, it was just there.

"Some might have died peacefully," Betty said with a wink. "Anyway, some say it has effects on the people around here. On animals as well."

"You mean Old Pete," Derek spoke up. He had been quietly listening and had left the talking to Stiles but now he was looking at Betty with interest. "Theo and Bobby are trying to catch him today."

"Doubt they'll see him." Betty huffed. "Those two can't sit still for two minutes, jabbering old men, that's what they are. Scaring away the fish with their bickering all day."

"Edith has invited us for dinner," Stiles threw in, the image of the two old men in a boat, nagging at each other like an old married couple, clear in his head. "She promised us fish."

"Maybe they're lucky." Betty didn't seem convinced. "But I wouldn't count on it. But don't worry, knowing Edith, she won't let you go hungry."

She had a point there.

She also had some pointers to books about the town and which ones mentioned the folklore and fairy tales from this area. It wouldn't be as in-depth as what Betty had told them but it might fill some gaps.

With Derek right behind him, Stiles was browsing the shelves, fully aware that the woman officially running the library was watching them. Betty was still around somewhere, she had promised them a book she knew was somewhere in the back, but at the moment it was just them and the woman behind the counter. At this hour most people were home, having dinner, so the library was empty.

Finally, she came over to them.

"I hope Betty isn't bothering you too much," she said with a smile but made sure that Betty wasn't just around to the corner when she said it. "She gets ... enthusiastic when she finds somebody interested in the history of this town. Especially if they're outsiders."

"Don't worry, we are actually looking for the kind of stories she has to tell," Stiles assured her and then he roped her into telling him about how it was growing up here. She was over fifty herself so it had been different times back then and her parents used to scare her from wandering off too far with stories about some creature hiding under that one bridge over the creek or that there were things out in the woods that would grab her at night. Betty had held back on the darker stories like this, the ones people used to scare their kids which were almost never anywhere near the truth, just lazy parenting. However, Stiles soaked them up like everything else, who knew if there wasn't a grain of truth hidden somewhere in there.

They left the library with a short stack of books and an open invitation for tea from Betty. Susan, the other librarian, had hurried to assure them that they didn't have to show up, they must have other things on their mind, but it was Derek who said that he would love to come by some time.

"Was that okay?" Derek asked once they were back on the street. Since Stiles needed both hands for his crutches it was Derek who was carrying the books. "That I said we'd come by?"

"Of course it was okay." Stiles hurried to say. At the moment all they could do was to wait for people to call them back and doing some online research, that was Stiles' plan for the rest of the day. If nothing else came up, they had time for a little visit.

"I like her."

"You and the old ladies." Stiles bumped shoulders with him but then he had to fight gravity to stay upright. He won but barely. Judging by the look Derek was giving him, he found it rather funny.

"Shut up," Stiles muttered.

"Didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking, I can see it." Sometimes Stiles could read him like an open book. Other times he couldn't tell what was going on behind those eyes at all.

"If you say so." Derek started walking again and Stiles had to hurry to catch up with him.

"Anyway, Edith and now Betty, the old ladies love you," Stiles teased.

"I like Edith," Derek said and from this angle, it almost looked like he was blushing. "And Betty is nice too."

"You." Stiles shook his head, for once lost for words.

On their way back to the motel they came by Dough's _Fish and Game_ and since they were here, why not go inside for a little chat? Stiles just turned to the door and it took Derek a few more steps to realize that Stiles had changed directions. But he fell in step behind him without questioning it.

"Well, look who we have here," Dough greeted them. Today the store was busier, he was just ringing up a customer, but he still had a warm greeting for the newcomers. "With you in a moment."

Stiles waved at him in a manner he hoped translated to "take your time" but what might look like he was threatening him with his crutch if he was honest. He hurried to duck into an aisle to get out of Dough's sight.

The store was all about hunting and fishing and currently, Stiles was facing a shelf full of bait. He didn't dare to look too closely what was right under his nose. His dad had taken him fishing once or twice when he had been little but Stiles could never sit still for longer than a few seconds so they had left it at those few attempts. They had bought fish on the way back and his mom had cooked it without commenting on the package it came in.

For a moment Stiles was lost in those memories. His mom had died a long time ago but moments like this still sneaked up on him. It didn't happen that often any longer but he never knew what would trigger a memory and the rarer they were, the harder they hit.

"Stiles, you okay?" Suddenly Derek was standing close to him, one hand on Stiles' which had the handle of the crutch in an iron grip.

"I'm fine." Stiles forced himself to let out a breathe and to uncramp his fingers. "Just a memory."

Derek nodded as if he understood. Which he couldn't. His memories were limited to a few days and so far nothing really bad had happened to him. The accident, of course, and maybe the in-betweens but Stiles didn't get the impression that those counted as bad for Derek.

"You should have gone with Theo and Bobby," Dough told them once he had time for them. The other customers were browsing and nobody needed help, at least not at the moment and maybe they just wanted to listen in on Dough and the outsiders, Stiles had no illusion that he and Derek and now Peter as well were the talk of the town. Especially since Peter had arrived.

"Fishing is not really my thing." Stiles made a face. The sitting still was one thing but once you had a fish you had to deal with that fish and that was really not Stiles' thing. He was fine with killing something that deserved killing but cutting open some poor fish … eww

He had no idea if it was Derek's thing, though, but a glance in his direction only told him that the werewolf was looking at the things on the shelf with interest but was crunching his nose over the smell. Werewolves preferred meat anyway. And they usually didn't bother with a rifle. Just ask Malia, she still loved to sink her teeth into a deer's neck.

However, Dough was more than willing to chat and with the new information they had gotten from Betty, Stiles had some new questions for Dough. He wasn't sure if the information was actually useful but Stiles left the store with the feeling of time well spent. Speaking of time, it was way after dinner and his stomach was grumbling.

"And no sight of Peter." He let out a sigh and checked his phone to find out what the werewolf was up to. At least Peter answered with the promise of sandwiches at his room.

The way back to the motel felt longer and by the time they reached the lot, Stiles' shoulders were burning. Edith was standing in the door to the office, looking expectantly at them but it was obvious that she wasn't waiting for them.

"What's going on?" Stiles made a detour to talk to her.

"Have you been by the garage?" She asked. "Have you seen Bobby and Theo there?"

"No, we haven't seen them," Derek answered before Stiles could. "Didn't they go fishing?"

"They wanted to be home hours ago."


	37. Chapter 37

"Maybe they forgot the time." Stiles offered but he knew that Edith wouldn't be this worried if it was common for Theo to forget the time like this. "Have you tried calling him?"

At that, she rolled her eyes.

"He forgot to take his phone with him. As always." She made an unpleased sound. "He says he would forget it somewhere anyway and usually he doesn't really need it."

It was kind of a strange concept for Stiles, having his phone with him all the time was not just a necessity, it came natural to him. But Edith and Theo were a different generation, they didn't grow up with cell phones.

"And Bobby?" Stiles asked but he knew the answer to that already, of course, had she tried calling him.

"I don't think he has his phone with him either." She crossed her arms over her chest to keep her hands still. She was clearly worried and Stiles couldn't help but think of the stories Betty had told them just a few hours ago. About people going missing around here. In most cases, they did show up sooner or later but sometimes they didn't.

"What's going on here?" Peter came over.

"Theo isn't back yet," Derek informed him. "And they don't have their phones with them."

"Who doesn't have their phone with them?" Peter wondered.

"I don't even have one," Derek reminded him. Which was another thing Stiles wanted to get to but hadn't come around to actually tackle so far. He hadn't even managed to shop virtual clothes for him without forgetting something basic like underwear. And a phone would be something physical that could easily break or get lost when Derek stopped existing. However, that was not the problem at hand so Stiles put it to the back of his mind to take care of later.

"Where did they want to go fishing?" Peter asked the question that had been on Stiles' lips before the phone issue had put him off track. "We could go out there and have a look."

"You would do that?" The relief was clear on her face.

"Of course." Stiles nodded along even if he wasn't sure of what use he would be with his broken leg and the crutches and all that. He had been out there and the paths were bumpy with roots and rabbit holes.

Peter had the mind to get the sandwiches he had gotten them so Stiles and Derek could eat over the ride because according to Peter a hungry Stiles was a cranky Stiles. Stiles disagreed vehemently but he couldn't quite get his point across around the mouth full of sandwich. Derek just gave him a pointed look and then nodded towards Peter in agreement, that traitor.

Derek made it half-way through his sandwich before he disappeared in a swirl of shadows. At least he had the time to wrap the rest of his sandwich into the paper and put it on the seat before it happened so at least Peter's rental didn't get sauce all over the seat.

"Do I want to know?" Peter asked with a side glance at the now empty passenger seat. The almost empty seat. There was the wrapped sandwich ... and one pair of Stiles' underwear. Right.

"Ehm ..." Stiles made. He felt the blood rushing into his cheeks. "I forgot to picture him in underwear and he didn't like going commando?"

"Do you picture him without underwear often?" Peter asked dryly.

Stiles didn't dignify that with an answer and took another bite of his sandwich instead.

"Don't you want to bring him back?" Peter asked when the seat next to him stayed empty. "Preferable with underwear?"

"Not just yet." Stiles shook his head. He had summoned Derek twice today already if he did it right away again, he wouldn't last very long.

Peter gave him a look through the rear view mirror but didn't comment on it.

Stiles had been exploring the area before so he was able to give Peter directions and soon Peter parked the car in a spot not far from the lake Theo and Bobby had wanted to go to. It was still quite a walk, not something Stiles was looking forward to but no way was he sitting this one out. There was one other car parked here, Bobby's Stiles guessed.

Like in the movies Stiles put a hand on the hood to confirm that, yep, it was cold. Most likely sitting here since the early morning. Peter had told him that he had seen Theo just when he'd left this morning and back then everything had looked fine.

"Have they both been here?" Stiles asked when he noticed the way Peter was holding his nose into the wind.

"Theo and another person. Male." Peter nodded to himself, most likely memorizing the scent of both men. "This way."

There was only one path leading into the woods here so Stiles was not that impressed with the werewolf's tracking skill but he still let him take the lead. On his crutches, he was even slower than usual and even at one hundred percent he could not keep up with the speed of a werewolf. Not that Peter was running ahead. He walked slowly, his eyes darting here and there and with his nose constantly in the wind. It was mostly for show Stiles guessed, to mask the fact that he was going slower than necessary to give Stiles the chance to keep up with him. Stiles didn't call him out on it.

What would have been a twenty minutes walk, thirty at most, came close to an hour but in the end, Stiles saw water through the trees. The sun had come out and the light broke on the little waves, making the water glister in the sun. It looked pretty, almost calm.

Edith had told them that Theo and Bobby preferred a spot more at the side of the lake, a bit off the most commons spots, that was the reason they had to walk this far in the first place. Stiles cussed them out under his breath, the path was really not made for someone on crutches, and without Peter, he would have been out here looking for the right spot way longer. At least Peter was able to direct them straight towards the small site the two men had claimed for themselves.

"We found their camp," Stiles commented when he spotted the two foldable chairs with a cooler between them. There were a few empty beer bottles and a bag with wrappers most likely from the sandwiches Edith had supplied them with. There also were buckets with no fish and two bags with their equipment. The two fishing rods were right beside the chairs, one still propped up on its stand, the other one on the ground but the line was limp and nothing tugging at the end. But most of all, there was no sign of either Theo or Bobby.

Stiles would have loved to just drop down in one of those foldable chairs but he didn't want to contaminate the side so he just leaned against a tree a bit off the side and let Peter have a closer look at the camp. If there was anything to find, the werewolf would find it.

"Is there a trail leaving from here?" Stiles asked. Peter had followed their tracks here, he would have noticed some crossed lines so Stiles was pretty sure that wherever they went from here, it was not back the way they came.

Peter didn't answer right away, too busy sniffing the air and things like the sandwich wrappers and beer bottles. Stiles would have laughed about his very much dog-like behavior but it had saved their asses too often in the past to make fun of it now. Instead, Stiles closed his eyes, even without a werewolf's nose he could be useful. Stiles slowly let out a breath and opened his senses to his surroundings. He had done this before not that far from here so the lines and fields of magic surrounding him were kind of familiar. Like a spider in its web, the Nemeton stood in the middle but it was miles away, the lines of the magical net there but not too dominant. Looking past the obvious Stiles opened up to the natural waves he was getting from this place. There was the presence in the lake, old and strong but not malicious. If old Pete had something to do with this, it didn't show in his aura. Stiles didn't like that word, it had too much of a new age bullshit feeling to it, but it was the best way to describe what he was getting from the fish. And that in and on itself sounded like some new age bullshit. Stiles snorted and opened his eyes.

"I don't get the feeling that there is something supernatural going on here," he told Peter who was still busy sniffing around.

"They went to pee over there." Peter pointed in one direction. "But they came back from there." He moved over to the opposite side of the camp. "Something came from here."

"Something?" That did get Stiles' attention. He hadn't sensed anything amiss here. And even if that something didn't leave a magical trace, he would have sensed it if the two men had been in distress.

"Not sure," Peter admitted. He had his back towards Stiles, looking intensely in the direction of whatever he was smelling.

"This wasn't supposed to turn into a job." Stiles groaned and pushed himself off the tree. "We have more than enough on our hands without people going missing." He tried to keep it cool on the outside but on the inside, he was freaking out. He knew Theo. He liked Theo.

And Stiles had been out here before. How could something just snag two men away right under his nose? And Peter had been out in the woods last night. Shouldn't he have noticed something amiss as well?

"This doesn't make sense." Stiles caught up with Peter but he was not stupid enough to just barge forward.

There were no signs of a struggle, the camp was undisturbed and so were the grass and the bushes in front of him. Stiles had never been a good boy scout but even he could see that somebody had come through here just recently. The grass was flattened and some smaller branches were broken but it still didn't look like a struggle.

"They just went with it?" Stiles squinted ahead but there were just more trees and the lake to the left.

"Looks like it." Taking one last sniff, Peter started following the scent.

Stiles followed a bit slower but he also kept his senses open just in case there was something disturbing the natural order around here. So far he got nothing.

Peter led him along the edge of the lake, sometimes directly at the waterline, sometimes so far off that Stiles lost sight of the water through the trees but always coming back to the lake.

"If this goes on for much longer we'll be on the other side and back at the start," Stiles muttered. By now he had real trouble, keeping up with Peter.

"The lake is bigger than that." Peter gave him a look over his shoulder but that one look was enough to make him stop walking. "Need a break?"

"I'm fine." Stiles wiped the sweat off his forehead. "We have to find them."

Peter agreed but he did pretend that he needed to orientate himself, giving Stiles a moment to catch his breath.

"This way." Peter started walking again but slower now.

While they were walking, Stiles tried to keep an eye on his surroundings, with his eyes and with his other sense, while he also was going through everything supernatural he knew to figure out what could have taken Theo and Bobby. Or more precisely, what could have made them leave their fishing spot with the lines still out and to walk halfway around the lake. It didn't make sense.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles suddenly noticed something red. Peter had noticed it too but instead of rushing towards it, he stopped and with his arm across Stiles' chest he made him stop as well.

"Two heartbeats," Peter informed him in a whisper, eyes darting around. This could be a trap. Stiles had been doing this long enough to know that and still, everything in him was itching to just run towards what looked like someone lying on the ground. Who it was and in what condition he was in, Stiles couldn't tell from here but he had no doubt that they had found the lost men.

"Still nothing," Stiles whispered back after he had made sure that there was still no sign of supernatural danger in the complex field of magic around here. They were closer to the Nemeton, though, its presence now constantly thrumming in the back of Stiles' mind.

Peter gave him a nod and then slowly, they approached the figure in the red jacket on the ground. Bobby, Stiles recognized the old man, but then he noticed a boot sticking out from behind a tree.

"Is that Theo?" Stiles asked while he ungracefully knelt down next to Bobby to check his pulse. He had one, slow and steady just like Peter had said, but he didn't show any sign of waking up.

"Yes, he's unconscious." Peter straightened up.

"Same here."

"I think we need Derek to get them out of here."


	38. Chapter 38

Peter was right. If they couldn't wake Bobby and Theo up, they would have to carry them out and even in top form, Stiles would never have been up to carrying a grown man through the woods for miles. That's what werewolves were for, to do the heavy lifting. But first Stiles wanted to make sure that the two men were in no immediate danger.

Stiles opened Bobby's jacket to have a closer look at him but there was no blood, his hands were clean and whole, he hadn't tried to defend himself and his face was relaxed with only a few scratches. Stiles had the same just from walking through the woods. Nothing about what he saw gave him any clue to what was going on here. For all he knew, Bobby should be up and about. But he looked as if he was peacefully asleep. In the middle of the woods. And no matter how often Stiles called his name or tried to shake him awake, his eyes stayed stubbornly closed.

"What about Theo?" Stiles sat back, it didn't look as if Bobby would wake up any time soon.

"No luck." Peter shook his head but he still kept an eye out to their surroundings. "We should get them out of there."

Stiles had to agree to that. He closed his eyes and reached into the shady place and a second later Derek was standing right next to him. He had a quick look around but then his gaze zoomed in on Stiles. It never failed to amaze Stiles how well he took to the sudden change of surroundings. From Derek's point of view, they had been in the car, eating sandwiches, only seconds ago.

"Are they hurt?" Derek asked with a tilt of his head, listening to the heart-beats, no doubt.

"We don't know what happened to them," Stiles told him. "But we need to get them out of here. Can you carry Bobby?"

"Of Course." Swiftly but with gentle care, Derek scooped up Bobby while Peter did the same with Theo. They were both grown man and not on the short side but the werewolves carried them like overgrown toddlers with ease.

They went back the way they had come, it was still shorter than to round the lake completely but it still would take them hours. Stiles was the slowest of them all, even with the aid of some magic. He didn't dare to use too much, they still didn't know what had happened here and he wanted to be prepared just in case. Plus, he had summoned Derek for the third time today and he had wanted him to last so he might have poured more into that spell than he should have. But the last thing he wanted to happen, was for Derek to disappear before they had reached the car.

It was getting late but then they reached the little camp Theo and Bobby had left behind. From here it wasn't that far back to the car.

"We should pack up," Peter decided and gently set Theo on the ground. It was on Stiles' lips to protest, they didn't have time to waste, but then Derek was at his side and urged him to sit down. Well, a minute or two couldn't hurt.

They still needed to get Bobby and Theo out of the woods, in more sense than one, as quickly as possible but their condition hadn't changed since they had found them so a few minutes really didn't hurt. Stiles noticed that Peter and Derek both were packing up slower than necessary and it warmed his heart while at the same time he was furious that he was the weak link once again. Even with a little magical aid, his broken leg made him so much slower than them.

"What are we going to do with them once we're out of here?" Derek asked. "Hospital?"

That gave Stiles a vivid image of Derek carrying his battered and bloody body down the road after the accident with the deer. Stiles had been unconscious at that point but watching Derek with Bobby helped to get the picture. Back then Derek had just started to become self-aware and for a moment Stiles wondered if Derek had been worried about him or if he had just followed his programming.

"Not sure if they can help him," Peter pondered on the hospital idea, pulling Stiles out of his thoughts. "But we probably should call Edith."

Stiles hadn't even thought of that, she must be worried out of her mind by now. However, he had no clue what to tell her.

In the end, he just told her that they had found them, that it didn't look too bad but that they were unconscious and that they wanted them to get checked out in the hospital. Stiles doubted that he had been able to ease Edith's worries, especially since neither Bobby nor Theo was in a condition to speak to her but there wasn't much he could do. They agreed to meet at the hospital and with that Stiles ended the call.

"We should hurry before she sends in the coastguard." Stiles reached for his crutches.

"They have a coastguard for the lake?" Derek raised his eyebrows at him.

"Figure of speech," Stiles dismissed him.

It was kind of unfair with what ease the werewolves shouldered the bags and then picked up Theo and Bobby again. They didn't even let Stiles carry the lightest bag which he could have carried with the handle across his chest, no problem.

"Just make sure that we don't have to carry you out as well," Peter told him and took the lead again.

"I could always summon Superman and let him fly me out," Stiles muttered under his breath but got going. Derek was last, he wanted to keep an eye on Stiles, no doubt about that.

"Summon Superman?" Derek repeated his words. "Like me?"

Stiles stumbled over his crutches and almost face-planted, this was not a conversation he wanted to have right now.

"A shade, yes," he admitted. "But not like you. Not even close." He hoped that that would be enough for now, they would talk later when they were not carrying people out of the woods. Not that he really had enough magic left to summon another shade. Which rose the question if he could hold two shades at once, he'd never tried to do that before. It would be an interesting experiment but for sure not now.

Behind him, Derek walked quietly but Stiles felt the pregnant aura around him even without opening his senses. They needed to talk about this but first, they had to take care of Theo and Bobby.

They reached the car eventually and they managed to get Theo and Bobby into the back seat without a problem. Strapped in with the seat-belts they should be secure enough for the ride to the hospital. With his cast and the crutches, Stiles needed more space so he got the passenger seat and Derek squeezed into the back next to Bobby. At least that way he could keep an eye on them.

Edith and Dr. Esser were waiting for them at the hospital. Stiles hadn't really been able to tell Edith what condition Bobby and Theo were in but judging by the looks of the group waiting for them at the entrance of the ER, they were ready for almost everything. Before Stiles even made it out of the car, Theo was on a stretcher and they were working on getting Bobby out of the car as well.

"What happened?" Dr. Esser asked while others were already taking Theo's pulse and blood pressure and were talking in that doctor speak of numbers and abbreviations that got over Stiles' head.

"We found them like this," Peter explained. "No visible injuries, steady heartbeat and they are breathing just fine."

"They just won't wake up," Stiles added bitterly while he watched the stretchers getting rolled away. Edith was following Theo's but Stiles knew that they wouldn't let her stay at his side. Suddenly he just felt tired. His arms finally gave and he would have just slumped down next to the car if it hadn't been for Derek who caught him with ease and then manhandled him back into the passenger seat. His vision grayed on the edges and for a moment Stiles thought he would pass out.

"Here." That was Peter's voice and then the neck of a water bottle nudged his lips.

Stiles drank greedily and over the rushing of his own blood in his ears, he only half-understood what Peter was saying. Something about him staying at the hospital and that Derek should drive him home? There was an exchange of keys so it actually did look like Derek was about to drive him back to the motel. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, he was needed here, they had to figure out what had happened to the two men but the rushing in his ears became louder and his vision more tunneled and it was way too easy for Peter to strap him into the seatbelt and close the door. Defeated Stiles slumped into the seat.

"You better don't disappear on me while you're driving," Stiles told Derek when he slid into the driver's seat. At least that was what he was trying to say, Stiles wasn't sure how clearly the words left his mouth.

"I have time to park the car," Derek assured him and then he started the engine. At least it looked as if he knew what he was doing and for a second Stiles was proud of himself for making his shades with basic skills like driving. But then his mind jumped to something else.

"I forgot the underwear again, didn't I?"

"It's okay," Derek assured him but for some reason, Stiles' mind had latched onto that fact.

"Peter said that I think about you without underwear too often," Stiles said and even in his own ears, it sounded slurred. As if he was drunk. "Am I affected?" He wondered aloud.

"Affected?" Derek threw him a glance but turned his eyes back on the road a second later. "By what?"

"By whatever got Theo and Bobby."

"I don't know," Derek admitted with another concerned glance in his direction. "How long have you been out in the woods before you summoned me?"

Stiles wasn't sure, hours. Probably not as long as the way back but he wasn't sure. He told Derek that much.

"You were using magic on the way back."

Stiles hadn't meant to make a secret out of it but he hadn't announced it either. He'd just put a little magic into his steps to give his shoulders a breather. But of course, Derek had noticed.

"I think you're just exhausted." Derek gave him a smile which looked reassuring. Stiles squinted at him but his vision wasn't clear enough to actually read his features. "I'll get you back to the motel. You should sleep."

It sounded like a plan. Stiles knew he should be looking into what had happened out there but he doubted he was in any condition to do so at the moment.

"Can you stop at the diner?" Stiles asked when they passed the welcome sign of the town.

"Are you hungry?"

"I need coffee," Stiles told him. With a good cup of coffee, he should be fine again.

"You need sleep," Derek corrected with a stern look. "And maybe food. Have you eaten since the sandwich?"

It had been so long ago, Stiles needed a moment to even remember the sandwich he had in the car on their way out. And no, he hadn't eaten anything since then.

To his relief, Derek did park the car in front of the diner.

"What do you want to eat?" He asked. "And I need money."

"Coffee," Stiles repeated but did search for his wallet. By now his body had remembered that it also needed food so he added a cheeseburger, curly fries, and a strawberry milkshake to his order. "And get something for yourself as well."

Derek nodded and left the car. Stiles might have dozed off while he waited for him to come back and he startled awake when suddenly the door opened.

"Can you hold this?" Derek handed him bags of food and the milkshake.

"Where's the coffee?"

"You won't get coffee," Derek told him and started the car.

"I can make you get me coffee," Stiles reminded him darkly while he tried to keep the food from slipping off his lap.

"Make me, then," Derek said, not even looking at him. With ease, he brought the car back on the street and a minute later they were back at the motel. Derek came around the car to take the food and Stiles even waited for him to come back before he tried to get out of the car by himself.


	39. Chapter 39

Stiles was not affected by whatever had gotten to Theo and Bobby, he was pretty sure of that. He let Derek carry him over to their room, there wasn't anybody here anyway to see them and at the moment Stiles didn't care. He had been on his crutches all day and most of it on terrain where crutches had no business to be, he hadn't eaten, his blood sugar must be way too low by now, and he hadn't been drinking as much as he should have either. And he had exhausted his magic, again. At least that way he still had Derek around to take care of him.

Which Derek did by setting him down on the bed, taking off his shoes and then he was trying to spoon-feed him tomato soup. Where the soup had come from Stiles had no idea, it hadn't been part of what he'd ordered but now he was happy to sip the rich hot soup. Without Derek's help, thank you very much. His hands even stopped shaking and he didn't spill anything. Derek was watching him like a hawk, ready to take over feeding him if needed.

"Sit down and eat your food," Stiles told him and reluctantly Derek did just that.

The warmth spread in Stiles' stomach and he felt better already. His shoulders were aching, one more reason why his hands had been shaking so much but as long as he kept his elbows close to his body he was fine. However, he felt the strands of muscles from his shoulders up his neck tensing up and there was a headache creeping up from the base of his skull. It was probably a good idea to go to sleep right after dinner but it didn't feel right.

Peter had texted him to see if they had made it back to the motel in one piece but he didn't have any news on the patients. As far as he could tell, the doctors were as clueless as they were.

"You won't solve it tonight." Derek pried the half-eaten bag of curly fries out of his hand, at least there had been something of the stuff he'd ordered in the bags. But still no coffee. "You should sleep now."

"Can't." Stiles let out a sigh. He had been dozing off just a minute ago, Derek had been right to get the fries before he spilled them all over the bed, but he just knew that he wouldn't be able to get more than that any time soon. He knew his body. And his mind. Even in his current state where he couldn't string together a coherent thought, his mind kept trying and with that, it kept his body from resting as well.

"Take off your shirt and lie down on your front," Derek ordered while he put the leftovers away.

"I'm not in the mood for that." Stiles shook his head which sent lances of pain through the base of his skull. "And I doubt you'll enjoy it if I pass out under you."

"Not that." Derek gave him a look as if he couldn't believe where Stiles' mind just went. But hey, he had been the one talking about taking off clothes, where else would Stiles' mind go? Stiles opened his mouth but then he found himself at a loss on how to convert that thought into words.

"Your neck and your whole back are tense," Derek said as if he was talking to a toddler. "I can help with that."

"I keep my pants," Stiles muttered but started to struggle his way out of his shirt.

"Sleeping in your jeans doesn't sound comfortable."

Derek had a point there, Stiles had to admit, so he got rid of his jeans as well. But he did keep his boxers to not give Derek ideas.

Stiles stretched out on his front in the middle of the bed and a second later the mattress dipped and then a comforting weight settled on his butt and lower back. At his sides, Stiles felt the hairs of Derek's bare legs tickling him.

"Did you put on some underwear?" Stiles asked. He was pretty sure that Derek was sitting naked on him but he had to ask. Instead of an answer, Derek put both hands flat on his back.

"Where did you get the oil?" Stiles was pretty sure that he didn't own any massage oil but a second later the question was forgotten. With skilled hands, Derek worked him over. It hurt but in a good way, Stiles felt himself relax under Derek's care and it didn't take long for him to melt into the mattress.

"Damn, you're good," Stiles mumbled into the pillow, already half-asleep. Derek was rubbing firm circles into the base of his skull and along the neck and Stiles felt the pressure easing off and with that his headache as well. He might even be able to sleep now.

Stiles did fall asleep with Derek still sitting on him, a grounding weight on his hips, and Derek's hand patiently working out all the kinks and knots out of his back and shoulders.

Stiles woke up alone in the bed. The sun was already high in the sky, the room too bright for his eyes so he retreated under the covers for a few minutes longer. His body felt heavy and when he stretched his back popped a few times leaving him even more relaxed.

"Damn, Derek knows what to do with his hands." Stiles stretched once more and yawned before he dared to peek out from under the covers to check the time. It was already past ten in the morning and his phone showed him two missed calls and one message. One call and the message were from Peter who informed him that there hadn't been news from the hospital and that he was taking Edith home for the night. Stiles had slept right through that but he did wonder if Peter had checked on him when he'd come home last night. And if Derek had still been there at that time.

The text told him that Peter and Edith were back at the hospital.

The other call was from Scott. Shit.

Scott hadn't left a message but missed calls were never good. That was the reason why Peter was here in the first place. Stiles just hoped that Scott had tried Peter when he couldn't get hold of Stiles.

However, before Stiles felt up to dealing with any of this he needed a shower. He had been hiking for the better part of the day yesterday and no matter how nice the massage had felt, the sweat and the oil had left a sticky film on Stiles' skin and he was itching to get it off.

When he came out of the bathroom, feeling human again, he found another message from Peter on his phone.

 _Are you alive?_

 _Barely,_ Stiles answered. _Any news?_

 _No. But Scott is worried. I think he's coming here._

"Fuck."

 _Did he say so?_

 _No but you know him_ , Peter answered.

He had a point there. The last thing Stiles wanted to deal with right now was his best friend and alpha. Derek was an alpha too so if nothing else, that was a problem right there. Aside from the fact that Scott didn't really understand magic, he would never be okay with Stiles bringing a shade to life. Out of principle alone.

"Maybe when he meets Derek," Stiles pondered but he did remember how Peter's first encounter with Derek had gone. At least he should talk to Scott before he let them meet.

Stiles took a deep breath and then he pushed the button to call Scott. At least he could find out what he was up to and if Scott was really coming here, how much time he had left. Why wasn't anybody else calling him back? But maybe Peter had more luck and just not the time to tell him that he'd found something.

"Stiles?" Scott picked up after the second rind. "How are you?"

"Sorry, I slept through your call." Stiles rubbed his face. Why had Scott been calling in the middle of the night anyway?

"Peter said you were exhausted and needed rest," Scott said, clearly waiting for Stiles to elaborate. Stiles didn't know where to even start with that. "He said something about missing people?"

"We found them." Stiles tried to suppress a sigh. "But it took hours and I'm telling you hiking on crutches sucks. Big time."

"Crutches?" Scott repeated. Right, Stiles hadn't told him about the accident. "Why were you hiking on crutches?"

"Because I broke my leg?" Stiles ground the heel of his hand into his forehead, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"When did you break your leg? How?" There was concern in his voice and Stiles couldn't help but smile. That was the reason he loved that overgrown puppy so much.

"Nothing serious. There was this deer on the road. I tried to avoid it and yeah I know you shouldn't do that but I wasn't thinking, I reacted because there was a fucking deer on the road. Anyway, landed in a ditch and broke my leg."

"Why didn't you call me?"

 _Because my self-aware shade was the one who carried me out and I'm not ready to deal with your prejudice just yet_ , would have been the honest answer but instead Stiles said: "I didn't want to worry you. I have a nice motel room and Edith, she and Theo own the motel, is mother-henning me to death. Not much you could do anyway." It wasn't even a lie. Just not the whole truth.

Scott didn't seem convinced and he wanted to see for himself that Stiles was okay because of course he wanted to check on Stiles.

"We'll be there in the afternoon."

"Who's we?" Stiles dared to ask. He was already picturing the whole pack coming for him and he was not ready for that. If they all were on their way, he would get his jeep, fully repaired or not, and make a run for it.

"Just me, Erica and Isaac."

Scott must have put some thought into his selection, or Erica had put him in a headlock until he agreed to let her come along, but out of the pack, Erica and Isaac were the ones Stiles got along with the best. They were the ones who would understand. Even if Scott wouldn't.

"Great, just fucking great," Stiles said into the empty room when he'd finished the call. But one problem at the time. Theo and Bobby were still unconscious at the hospital and the doctors had no clue what they were dealing with, that had priority. And he should use the time to call back some people to see if they got something for Derek. It would be awesome to get that done before Scott and the others arrived, then Stiles would only have to deal with Scott being pissed at another alpha but he doubted that he had such luck. Even if he knew what to do by then, it most likely would take more than a few hours to get everything ready for whatever kind of ritual he was planning here.

Stiles let out a frustrated breath and closed his eyes. At least he didn't have to face this alone.

"You look better," Derek said before Stiles even had the chance to open his eyes.

"The massage helped, thank you." Stiles smiled at him. "What happened after I passed out?"

"Peter came by." Derek had still a wary eye on him, absolutely not convinced that he wouldn't keel over any second now. "He brought Edith home and he wanted to go with her back to the hospital first thing in the morning. He gave me his keys."

"Where did you store the keys?" Stiles eyed him but he wouldn't have them in his pockets, the pair of underwear yesterday had been proof enough that Derek couldn't carry physical objects through an in-between. Which was a useful piece of information but not helpful if Derek had lost the keys somewhere outside.

"They are on the nightstand." Derek rolled his eyes at him as if he knew exactly what Stiles had been thinking.

Stiles twisted around and right, there were the keys. Along with his own keys and his wallet. His phone had been there as well but currently, it was somewhere between the sheets where Stiles had just dropped it. Looked like Derek was the neat one around here. Stiles took that in but then he turned back to Derek.

"Did Peter say anything else?"

"He wanted to take Edith's car to get back to the hospital, we can use his once you're up for it." He gave him a long look. "Are you up for it?"

"I am," Stiles said and it wasn't even a lie. The massage and a good night's sleep had done wonders to him. "Just let me hit the bathroom real quick and then we'll head out. And this time I insist on coffee."


	40. Chapter 40

They arrived at the hospital with coffee and breakfast for all four of them. Edith didn't want to eat but she took the coffee with a grateful smile. There were no news, both men were still unconscious and nobody knew why. From a physical point of view, they were fine. What really worried the doctors was the fact that they had both been affected at the same time, they were talking about CDC and quarantine and things like that.

Stiles settled in for a long wait. When his mother had been in the hospital, he had spent hours like this. Hours where he could only sit and wait and wait and sit and in the end the doctors couldn't do a damn thing to save his mom. His dad hadn't been around as often as he should have, Stiles knew that now, and he was glad that at least Peter of all people had kept Edith company.

"Scott is coming?" Peter asked when they had a moment.

Derek was keeping Edith company and from the distance, it looked as if he was doing a good job distracting her. Stiles had no idea what they were talking about, though.

"Along with Isaac and Erica," Stiles confirmed. "At least he's not bringing the whole pack." At least that but it didn't make things better. "Any news from your contacts?"

There had been and Peter had spent his free time with the texts he had gotten emailed. Stiles felt a bit guilty about that, he most likely had been busy having sex with Derek while Peter had been working on that and last night he'd just past out. Not really helpful.

"What did you get?" Stiles took a sip from his coffee, still watching Edith and Derek.

"It's all about the balance." Peter leaned his back against the wall so that he could follow Stiles' line of sight. "If you want to create life you have to take it from somewhere. There are rituals around that to channel the energy and to bind it where you want to have it but in the end, it always comes down to that. Balance."

Stiles nodded and took another sip.

"So we have to kill somebody?"

"Looks like."

Suddenly Derek's head shot up and he was looking straight at them, his gaze was dark and he was shaking his head slightly but in a clear no. Stiles should have thought about werewolf hearing before he'd brought up this topic. He sighed and finished his coffee.

"We'll talk about this later," he said to Peter but to Derek as well. "Besides, it doesn't make sense."

Peter opened his mouth to ask but then Dr. Esser came over to them.

"They woke up," she said and then she was hugging Edith.

"Can I see him?" Edith asked but Dr. Esser was already leading her out of the waiting area. Stiles, Derek, and Peter were left behind, they weren't family, but Stiles didn't want to disturb the moment for them anyway.

Once they were alone, Derek came over to them.

"You are not killing somebody," he told them with a hint of red in his eyes. "If that is what it takes, I don't want it."

"We won't," Stiles assured him and to his own surprise, it wasn't a lie. "And we won't go behind your back. Before we do anything you have to give your okay. Okay?"

Stiles couldn't hold his gaze for long. He lowered his eyes and then he was fighting the urge to bare his throat for the alpha in front of him but after a second he gave in. Derek sucked in a surprised breath but then he stepped closer and buried his face in Stiles' neck. Stiles felt his teeth scraping over the exposed skin, a clear _I could rip your throat out if I wanted to_ and it sent shudders through his body. Not arousal at least not just that, it was submission and devotion and trust in the alpha. In his alpha. Shit.

"That's unexpected," Peter broke the moment and Derek hurried to bring some distance between them. Stiles needed a moment longer to compose himself. What the fuck was he doing here? His alpha was Scott and he was coming here today. But he never had such a reaction to Scott. He had accepted him as his alpha and he could feel him in his head, a bond that connected him with the alpha and the rest of the pack, but that was nothing like what he'd felt with Derek for a moment.

Whatever it had been, it was gone now.

They were saved by a nurse looking for them.

"Mr. Davis wants to see you," she told them and then she was leading them deeper into the building. The long corridors reminded Stiles of the time his mother had been living in a hospital for months. She hadn't left it alive. He still dreamed of that long corridors sometimes, where he ran and ran, looking for his mom but never finding her.

As if he was sensing that there was something going on with Stiles, Derek put a gentle hand on his shoulder. It made walking with crutches weird but Stiles gave him a smile to assure him that he was fine. Derek left his hand on Stiles' shoulder until they reached Theo's room.

Turned out it was not only Theo's room but Bobby's as well. It made sense. The doctors had no idea what was going on here, they had been talking about quarantine, it made sense to put them in one room. Edith was sitting at Theo's side but when they entered, Bobby lifted his head as well to see who the visitors were.

"Derek." Theo propped himself up on one elbow despite Edith's protest. As far as Stiles could tell, he looked fit and healthy. "I have a message for you."

Derek glanced over to Stiles for guidance but Stiles had no idea what was going on either.

"What message?" Derek stepped closer to the bed.

"You are," Theo said. "You are."

He nodded, a soft smile on his lips, and then he sank back down into his pillow. Edith was immediately fussing over him, gentle fingertips brushing strands of hair out of his forehead.

"I am what?" Derek asked, now standing at the side of the bed.

"You are," Theo mumbled one last time, then he closed his eyes with a soft sigh. For a second Stiles was sure he was dying, that this had been his last breath, but then Theo snuggled more into Edith's palm and another second later he was snoring softly. He hadn't been snoring before so Stiles hoped that this was real sleep for once.

"Who gave you that message?" Derek asked but Theo was sleeping and didn't even twitch.

They wouldn't get any answers from him any time soon but there was still Bobby who was watching from the other bed. At least he was awake.

"Can you explain this to us?" Stiles almost pleaded.

"I have no idea what he's talking about." Bobby shook his head. "I don't have any messages for anybody." He made a face.

"What can you tell us?" Peter spoke up. "What happened out there?"

"I was hoping you could give me an answer to that." Bobby looked from Peter to Stiles. "They told me you got us out?"

Peter was a complete stranger to him but at least he had met Stiles so naturally Bobby directed his question at him. Stiles made the two steps over to his bed and set down in the chair next to it. His shoulders were still mad at him because of yesterday.

"Edith was worried because you were out way longer than expected," Stiles started and then he told him how they had found their little camp and how they had followed their tracks around the lake.

"We carried you out and got you to the hospital, that's all I know. Sorry." Stiles knew that Bobby had hoped for answers but Stiles had none. "Do you remember why you left your spot? Everything was still set up, it looked as if you wanted to be back in a minute or so," Stiles prompted but Bobby couldn't give him anything.

"We were just sitting there, having a beer," he said. "Hadn't caught anything so far. Theo was joking about coming home empty-handed. Next thing I know I wake up in a hospital and everybody is fussing over me. What the hell happened out there?"

"I don't know," Stiles said honestly.

"But thanks." Bobby gave him a weak smile. "For getting us out of there. Whatever it was."

His eyes were dropping as well so Stiles and the others left to let the men rest.

"What do you think?" Peter asked once they were out in the parking lot. They were on their way back to the motel but Peter had promised to pick up Edith later.

"The Nemeton?" Stiles asked. It was the only thing coming to mind. "But if this was just about a message, why not just give it to us? I've been out there, you've been out there. Hell, it could have talked to us in a dream or something like that. Why using Theo?"

Theo had been the one with the message, Stiles had the feeling that Bobby just had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"You are," Peter repeated the message. "What does that even mean?"

They both turned to Derek. The message had been for him, maybe it made sense to him.

"I don't know," he said but he furrowed his brow, thinking. "I haven't been out there."

That was true, the spell hadn't lasted long enough, Stiles had been alone when he'd reached the tree.

"And I do dream but I'm not always there," Derek reminded them.

"So you're saying the Nemeton couldn't reach you directly so it napped somebody close to you to pass along a message?" Stiles almost tripped over his crutches in his attempt to walk and gesture at the same time. He was so sick of this stupid injury.

"It's a thought," Peter had to admit and the look he was giving Derek almost counted as impressed. Derek ducked his head under his gaze but he couldn't hide a smile.

"The message still doesn't make sense." Derek sobered up quickly.

"Not yet," Peter assured him. "If it is important enough to interfere with people like this, it will become clear at some point."

Stiles didn't have the heart to tell Derek that _at some point_ more often than not meant too late. In hindsight, everything looked clearer.

They drove back to the motel and spent the next hours over Peter's information and in Stiles' case on the phone to get some information himself. People were still reluctant to help him and he had the feeling that some hadn't even looked into it like they had promised but now and then he did get something useful out of somebody.

It always came down to keeping the balance and everybody was very clear that it meant he had to take a life if he wanted to give life to Derek. And that if he went through with this, he better deleted their number. Once or twice he even got death threats, that if he crossed that line he would be no better than the things he usually hunted and that they would have to put him down.

"Stiles please, listen to your alpha." A witch Stiles hadn't much contact with even pleaded, revealing that it had been her who had sicced Scott on him. She was meaning well but Stiles made a mental note to not contact her again if he could avoid it. He didn't delete her number right away but only because he never deleted a number once he had it. One never knew when or if it would come in handy again.

Aside from the whole killing thing, which Derek was vehemently against and he didn't grow tired of reminding them every time it came up, they had a nice selection of rituals that could be modified to fit their purpose and some herbs and other ingredients that could be useful. Some things were borderline but they all counted at least as light gray and not even Derek could object against them. Parts of dead animals sounded bad in theory but most of what they might need they could get at the next supermarket so there was that.

They had a lot of fragments but no clear picture yet and what looked like the centerpiece was a big no-no, at least for Derek. However, something with all this didn't sit right with Stiles.

"What are you thinking?" Peter prompted. Over the years he had learned to trust Stiles' lines of thought even if he couldn't follow them. It was one of the reasons Stiles liked him.

"Not sure." Stiles shook his head, he needed to think about this for a little while longer. For now, they had to call it quits anyway, there was a car pulling into the parking lot. Stiles gave Derek a quick kiss on the lips before he flicked his wrist and Derek evaporated in shadows. They had agreed that Peter and Stiles would deal with Scott and the others alone first.

However, now that Scott was here, Stiles couldn't deny that he had missed his best friend. So when he opened the door, Stiles yelled "Scott!" and attack-hugged him. Scott hugged him back just as fiercely.


	41. Chapter 41

_You are_. The message echoed through Derek's head but even now, hours later, it didn't make sense. It was important, he got that, and it was most likely from that tree but it still didn't make sense.

Derek would have liked to just go out there and ask the tree directly but Stiles and Peter were in the middle of their research, hunched over the table covered with notes and almost constantly on the phone and Derek feared that if he left them alone, he would miss crucial information. Like the fact that most likely they had to kill someone to bring Derek to life. Peter hadn't wanted him to hear it, maybe even wanted to keep that detail from him until it was too late. Derek wasn't so sure about Stiles, though. Stiles had promised that he wouldn't keep anything from him and that Derek would have the final say in this, and he had meant it, but Derek felt better if he was right there to get the information first hand. Which was kind of boring if he was honest. Half of what Stiles and Peter were talking about he didn't understand but he paid attention nevertheless.

"What are we going to do about Scott?" Stiles changed the topic. He'd pushed the notes and his phone aside, looked as if he needed a break. Derek eyed him carefully, searching for signs that he'd overdone it again. But so far Stiles looked fine. He had shadows under his eyes but that was it. He often had shadows under his eyes. Derek guessed that was because of the magic he was constantly using but every time Derek had brought it up, Stiles had waved him off, telling him that he was fine.

"Do you want him to meet Derek right away?" Peter asked but the way he was looking at Derek, his question was meant for him as well.

"You think he's going to attack Derek?" Stiles pondered to what Peter just shrugged. Derek didn't know Scott so he couldn't tell how he would react.

"What did you tell him?" Derek asked.

"About you? Nothing."

That cut deep. Scott was important to Stiles, why was he hiding Derek from him?

"And before you get upset about that." Stiles reached for him and Derek stepped over to him and let him take his hand. "You're not my dirty little secret. There's a lot I don't tell Scott. Mostly job-related."

Stiles paused, searching for the right words. "Scott is my alpha. But you're an alpha too. That makes things a little complected."

Derek tilted his head, listening to more than just his words. He had never met Scott but for some reason, a stab of jealousy went right through his chest when Stiles named Scott as his alpha. Derek couldn't put it in words and he knew that Stiles was Scott's but that statement felt wrong. Stiles was his. Simple as that. He might not be his alpha, not officially, but Stiles was his.

Derek didn't want to upset Stiles so he didn't say anything.

When a car pulled into the parking lot, Stiles drew him in for a kiss which was more than a quick goodbye. It was an until later, a promise that Stiles would still be there when Derek would be back. Which was stupid because if Stiles wasn't there Derek wouldn't be either but Derek felt himself smile into the kiss nevertheless and then he fell into nothingness.

The in-betweens didn't know time, it wasn't anything he experienced, it was just a cut in his existence. They kissed, Stiles flicked his wrist and next thing he knew Derek was standing in their motel room. Before they had been in Peter's room but the change of scenery had never bothered Derek. Stiles was there that was all that counted. Naturally, he zoomed in on him, checking him up and down but as far as he could tell, Stiles was just like he had been before the in-between. Then Derek took a breath.

"You smell of him," Derek said. His fingers twitched and his whole body was itching to mark Stiles up with his own scent. To cover up and wash away every last trace the other werewolves had left on him. By now Derek was used to Peter's scent on Stiles but there were two or even three new ones now. One so strong and dominant it made Derek gag. Alpha. And it screamed _mine_.

"Are you okay?" Stiles made a step towards him but Derek couldn't stand the wave of pheromones coming at him. Stiles had let his alpha mark him like this, that much was obvious, and Derek had no right to take what was another alpha's so he did the only thing he could do. He lowered his eyes and retreated. Except for the bathroom there wasn't anywhere to go in the small motel room so Derek took the only escape he had and bolted out of the front door. Outside he took a deep breath but it was not enough to get the smell out of his nose. It was clogging his airways, suffocating him.

"Derek?" Stiles came up behind him but with him came that scent again.

"I need ..." Derek didn't know what he needed just that he had to get away from this scent. "Please, I need ... fresh air." It wasn't what he needed not even close but when he walked away, Stiles didn't hold him back. Stiles could make him stay or even force him out of existence to keep him from running but he didn't.

There was another car in the lot and Derek felt eyes on his back but he didn't turn back to confirm that Stiles' alpha and the others from his pack were watching him. He kept his eyes straight ahead and picked up speed.

He didn't know where he was going, there was just the need to run, but on some deeper level, he felt the pull. There was only one place to go around here. Derek left the road early, it felt better to run where no path was leading the way. Once he was in the woods and out of sight from anybody coming down the road, Derek shook his head and let the shift take over. He felt his shoulders bulk under his jacket and his steps became wider and more powerful. His clawed hands left marks where he leaped over fallen trees or propelled himself forward to go even faster. His mouth full of teeth felt right but when a deer ran from him in panic he didn't take up pursuit. This was not about the hunt, this was about running. About powering out his body and mind.

He didn't go directly to the tree but he kept the general direction. He didn't have a sense of time but it might have been hours since the in-between. At first, he had feared that Stiles would call him back any second but by now that fear was gone. He would be back with Stiles after the next in-between and it didn't matter when that would be.

He did reach the tree eventually.

Peter's scent was still lingering around here but it was a comforting scent. Derek stopped where he could tell that Peter had stopped and for a second he was scanning the clearing with all his senses but there was no sign of danger. After one last whiff, Derek stepped out into the clearing and without even thinking he shifted back to his human features. It felt wrong to approach the tree ready to fight.

Within arm's reach of the trunk, Derek stopped and looked up into the roof of leaves high over his head.

It looked like a tree. A big one, old, but it did look like a normal tree. But Derek could tell that it was more. There was something rustling in the leaves, an aura of power surrounding it. And if this tree was really responsible for what had happened to Theo and Bobby, it was powerful. Derek wasn't sure if he liked it.

He knew the feeling of doing things because he had to do them, because he didn't have a choice, because the thought of not doing what he was told didn't even cross his mind, and the thought that this tree had done something like that to the two men, to Theo … Derek didn't like it one bit.

"I'm here," he said. There was a soft breeze and the usual noises of nature but no answer. "I got your message."

Derek waited again but still no answer. Hesitantly he reached out and after a long second, he let his fingertips brush over the rough bark. He wasn't sure what he had expected, a sense of electricity maybe or the air around the trunk heavy with the tree's presence but all he felt was tree bark under his fingers.

"What do you want from me?" Derek stepped back to see more of the tree at once. It was towering over him but he had the sun in his back. Derek didn't know how he would like it to be in its shadow, it didn't sound like a good idea. However, now he noticed the patch of grass right at the base of the tree. It looked as if somebody had been sitting there recently and a deep breath confirmed that yes, this was the spot where Peter had been sitting.

Without an idea what else to do, Derek settled down in the same spot with his back against the tree. It felt wrong to put his back right against something that might be an enemy but when after a full minute the tree hadn't attacked him, Derek dared to relax.

He tilted his head back and squinted once again into the top of the tree. Mighty branches were stretching out over him and he doubted that he would get wet even in the strongest rain, the roof of leaves was too thick.

"What do you want from me?" Derek asked again but got only the soft whisper of the leaves for an answer.

This was stupid, he should go back to Stiles. But for some reason, Derek couldn't bring himself to get up. Just a moment longer, he was in no hurry. He let out a deep breath and settled more firmly against the trunk.

It felt nice, Derek had to admit and he even dared to close his eyes. He knew from both Peter and Stiles that they had fallen asleep like this, that hours had passed without them noticing but that was nothing Derek was afraid of. It happened to him all the time, it was part of who he was.

Derek let out another breath and he felt himself sink deeper. It almost felt as if he was sinking into the trunk of the tree but that thought wasn't disturbing enough to make him open his eyes.

 _You are_

There was that message again. It wasn't really a voice telling him this, it was more something that was in his head, like a memory but not quite. Something that was just there.

 _You are_

 _What do you mean?_ Derek asked into the emptiness that stretched before him but there was no answer.

 _You are_

The last one was barely a whisper, not really there, and it lulled Derek into the darkness. With one last sigh, he let go completely and sank into the waiting nothingness. It felt safe and warm, just like he felt when he was in bed with Stiles. Like every time he was with Stiles, it was the feeling that was Stiles. Derek let that feeling surround him.

When he opened his eyes, he was standing in their motel room again. Stiles had turned on the lights, by now it was dark outside. If he had run out of time or if Stiles had decided to just bring him back, he couldn't tell.

"How are you?" Stiles asked carefully and he made sure to keep his distance. He had showered recently, Derek smelled soap and shampoo on him, it was enough to dull down the scent of his alpha. Enough for Derek to breathe freely.

"I'm good," Derek answered honestly.

"When you ran ..." Stiles let out a sigh. "I was worried."

Derek understood that but he still didn't know how to put in words what had made him run.

"Erica said that I smell too strongly of Scott." Stiles awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. "I showered. Is it better now?"

Derek jerked his head in a nod.

"Want to come to bed with me?" Stiles sounded hopeful but for some reason, his body language was screaming at Derek that he expected a no.

"Yes," Derek said and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed next to Stiles.

"There is food in the fridge if you're hungry," Stiles offered without looking at him. Derek reached over to take his hand and Stiles latched on to it immediately.

"I'm not hungry." He might be but that was not what was on his mind right now. This close he could smell Stiles' alpha on him. Along with the other werewolves. It wasn't as strong as before but it was there. "Can I scent you?"

Stiles looked him in the eye for a long moment and then, slowly, he leaned in and brought their lips together.

"Mark me."


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N** _It's Christmas and I feel generous so here's another chapter. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you. I wish you a peaceful time._

* * *

Stiles had missed Scott. He hadn't even realized how much until he was standing in his door.

"Scott." Stiles crashed into him, letting go of his crutches because he knew Scott would catch him. He always did. Behind him, Stiles noticed Erica and Isaac but for now there was just Scott. They hugged for a long moment before they reluctantly parted and then Scott was fetching his crutches so that Stiles could move out of the way to let the visitors in. The way Scott was scanning the room Stiles was pretty sure that he had noticed Derek's scent on him but they would get to that later.

"Man, what did you do to your leg?" Isaac squeezed past him, not without running his nose along Stiles' neck. The werewolves needed to reconnect with their pack member and Stiles knew that he had been away for too long. He didn't have to be in Beacon Hills all the time to be pack, distance didn't matter, but being away from his pack and his alpha wasn't a good thing. Nothing he noticed on a daily base but now that his alpha and the others were right here, Stiles felt how much he'd missed them. It seemed similar with Peter, he and Scott were still hugging and Peter was not the hugging type. But as far as Stiles knew Peter had been away for longer than he had been.

"Seriously, I can't leave you out of my sight." Erica pushed Isaac aside to get access to Stiles. There was more scenting but in the end, they all sat down for what would be a serious talk, no doubt. At least Stiles got one of the chairs, his stupid cast had to be good for something, while Isaac and Erica sat down on one side of Peter's bed and Peter took a seat on the foot end. There was no question that as the alpha Scott got the second chair. And sitting across from Stiles would give him a good position to interrogate him, Stiles knew that even if he doubted that Scott had done it on purpose.

"Really, what did you do to your leg?" Isaac repeated his question.

"Didn't Scott tell you? I hit a deer. The jeep's still in the garage." Which was even true and not only because Bobby had gone missing, the parts weren't all here yet either, at least as far as Stiles knew. His jeep had been the last thing on his mind lately.

"You should have called, we would have gotten you home in no time," Scott scolded him but with worry in his voice.

"You just want to mother me." Stiles tried to play it light. He hadn't wanted the whole pack to fuss over him, that had been the main reason he hadn't come home right away. And because of Derek but they would get to that later.

"You were acting strange." Scott gave him his puppy dog eyes.

"That's when you send in Peter, thanks for that." Stiles let the sarcasm drip off his voice. If he was honest, he was glad that Peter was here, out of the whole pack he was the one who understood, but still. Stiles had said that he wanted to be left alone and Scott had called Peter.

"I was worried," Scott defended himself. "And I was right." Now he was pointing with his finger at Stiles. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," Stiles hurried to say.

"Why did I get a call from a witch, then?" Scott asked. "Stiles, she was talking about black magic."

"Scott," Stiles started but didn't know how to continue. Where should he even start?

"This is about that werewolf, isn't it?" Erica asked and made a show of sniffing the air. Stiles didn't have a werewolf's nose but he knew that Derek's scent was all over Peter's room, all over Stiles. Maybe even all over Peter. It would have been worse if they had been in Stiles' room but Derek had been in here long enough to leave his mark.

"Who is it?" Scott asked and Stiles didn't even want to think about the scenarios playing out in his head right now. Peter's first thought had been that Derek was using him for something and it was clear that Scott and the others were thinking along the same lines. And they hadn't even met Derek.

"Yes, this has to do with that werewolf," Stiles confirmed. He threw a glance at Peter but there was no help coming from that direction. There wasn't really anything Peter could do to make this better. "But no, it's not what you think."

"Then tell me." Scott ducked his head to look him in the eye. This was his best friend, he was worried and concerned but Stiles knew that he would never understand. Not really. However, there was no point in hiding any longer, better get it over with.

So Stiles told him. About the shade that was enough alpha werewolf to roar some feral betas into submission. About how that shade had become more than that. How he had become a person.

"Stiles, it's a shade," Scott tried to reason with him. "You were the one who told me that they are just a facade, puppets that do what you tell them to do. They are not persons."

"This one is," Peter spoke up. "And Stiles is trying to bring him all the way through."

"What do you mean?" Erica looked from Peter to Stiles and back at Peter. "You want to make that thing real?"

"That's the plan," Peter said.

"But isn't a shade bound to you? Like that it has to do whatever you say?" Isaac threw in. At least one had paid attention when Stiles had explained the concept of shades.

"Stiles, what the fuck are you doing here?" Scott looked as if he wanted to leap over the table to knock some sense into Stiles. "Is that what that witch has been talking about? That's insane. I forbid it, you're coming home with us."

"Really, Scott?" Stiles gave him an unimpressed look. Scott might be his alpha but he had been his sandbox friend first and when it came down to it, he was still the boy who had happily eaten his mud-cakes just because Stiles had told him to. "You haven't even met him."

"I don't need to meet your shade," Scott almost yelled at him. "It's a shade. It's magic pressed into a form, you told me that."

"This one's different," Stiles said quietly.

"Now I really want to meet it. Him. Whatever." Erica gave him a feral grin.

"His name is Derek," Stiles provided.

"Derek as in ..." Isaac was the first to catch on, his eyes darting over to Peter.

"Derek Hale," Peter confirmed. "He's going to be my long lost nephew"

Stiles was the only one who knew how hard it was for Peter to say that but he managed it with a smile and a hint of danger.

"Stiles, that's …," Scott tried again. "You know better than to dabble with stuff like that. Stiles!"

This was leading nowhere, they could stay here all day, talking in circles.

"Let's see what Derek has to say to that," Stiles decided but when everybody was looking at him as if they expected him to perform a trick or something, he turned on his heel. "We'll come over once I know he's okay with meeting you." With that, he was out of the door. Scott tried to hold him back but Peter didn't let him.

Back in his own room Stiles took a deep breath. This was a disaster and adding Derek to the mix wouldn't make it better, he just knew. He didn't know what else he could do so he reached into the shady place and a second later Derek was standing in the middle of the room.

Stiles knew that he was reeking of the others and most likely of his mixed feelings as well so he tried to keep his distance but it wasn't enough. Derek took one breath and then there were too many emotions flashing over his face.

Stiles didn't know what was going on with him but when Derek retreated, he didn't try to hold him back. Not that Derek could run from him. Even if he wanted to, there was no way for him. Rather sooner than later the spell would run out and he would be back at Stiles' side. If Stiles decided to summon him again. This whole situation was fucked up.

So Stiles stood in the door and watched Derek leave. He was almost running. He hurried past Peter's room and didn't look back when the door opened and Scott came out. For a moment it looked as if Scott wanted to call after him or follow him but in the end, he just stood there and watched the other werewolf leave.

Once he was sure that nobody was following Derek, Stiles went back into his room and kicked the door shut. This was not what he had expected. He had wanted to ease Derek into meeting his pack but his reaction had been much stronger than expected. Once again Stiles wished that he knew what was going on in Derek's head. He had seen his reaction to Peter's scent on him so he was guessing that this was about Scott's scent on him. His alpha.

When there was a knock at his door Stiles perked up in hope that it was Derek but it was Erica standing in the door.

"So that was Derek."

"He needed fresh air," Stiles said lamely. What was even the point?

"This is his den." Erica nodded to herself as if that made sense.

"We've been staying here for a while now." Of course, the whole room was reeking of Derek. And himself, Stiles realized. Most likely like sex as well.

"You smelled like him," Erica said with a knowing smile. "And now you're not."

"Why are you here?" In this room, in this town, Stiles didn't even know what he was asking here, suddenly he was just tired.

"We are worried about you." She gave him a look as if that should have been obvious. And it was. But on the other hand, there was Derek who was now out there, running from him because another alpha had invaded his territory. He hadn't even tried to fight. One look at Stiles, one short sniffing and Derek had been running. Stiles knew werewolves, he had lived with them for the better part of his life and this just broke his heart. He had promised Derek more and yet he wasn't even able to keep what little Derek had.

"Thanks but I'm fine." Stiles slumped down on his bed.

"I can see that." She paused. "Is he coming back?"

"Of course." Maybe not by choice but Derek would be back.

"I saw a diner on the way in, I think I'll grab the others and take them out for dinner," she said. "Introduce us to him when you're ready, I'll keep Scott on a short leash." She turned towards the door but gave him one last look over the shoulder. "And Stiles?"

"Hmm?"

"Take a shower before he comes back."

Through the window Stiles watched them leave. Erica had to almost wrestle Scott into the car, he tried to come over to Stiles' room at least three times but Peter and Erica finally convinced him to leave Stiles alone for the moment. Isaac kept out of it but he did look over to Stiles and even through the curtains their eyes met. What to read in that look Stiles didn't know but he did breathe easier once they were in the car and on the way to the diner. They could have walked the short distance but Stiles had the suspicion that it was because this way they could trap Scott in the backseat between Isaac and Erica while Peter was driving. Why else would they leave the passenger seat empty?

Stiles took the recommended shower but Derek wasn't back by the time he came out of the bathroom in fresh clothes. The others weren't back either which he counted as a good thing.

Stiles didn't know how long Derek would last and it was way past dinner time when he finally decided that the spell must have run out by now. Isaac had brought him dinner and he had almost sheepishly admitted that there was something for Derek in the bag as well.

"Peter insisted, he says your shade eats." Isaac had a not so subtle look around but Derek was not there. Disappointed he left but not without telling Stiles their room numbers.

Room by room they were taking over the motel but friends of Stiles and Derek were always welcomed Edith had assured them. Stiles would have loved to see Scott's face at those words but he had to take Isaac's word that it had been hilarious.

Isaac wished him a good night and then Stiles was alone again. But not for long.

Erica had been right, it had been the scent that had bothered Derek. Mostly.

"Mark me," Stiles said and let Derek guide him to the bed.


	43. Chapter 43

Derek did mark him. He went wild but that was exactly what Stiles needed right now. He was pretty sure that his moans and cut back screams were audible a few doors down where Isaac and Erica were sharing a room and the sadistic part of him hoped that it would carry even a little farther to Scott's room.

Derek had started with scenting him, running his nose up and down the line of his neck but that hadn't been enough. Stiles was sure that he would sport some impressive hickeys in the morning and not only on his neck. Derek seemed determined to mark every inch of him with his mouth and when that wasn't enough he brought in the fangs and claws. Stiles was barely able to save his clothes, Derek had been close to just ripping them apart in his haste to get Stiles naked and now he was working him over with his mouth and hands, leaving kisses and imprints of his teeth all over Stiles. Not that Stiles was complaining.

Derek had shied back at the first pained noise Stiles had made but it didn't take much convincing on Stiles' part to bring him back into the game.

"I'll tell you when you're too rough," Stiles breathed out, both hands buried in Derek's hair to keep him close. Currently, he was torturing one of his nipples with his teeth while he was plucking with his claws at the other one. It was driving Stiles mad. The sharp lances of pain went straight to his cock. He feared and hoped at the same time that Derek would give him the same attention down there.

"I'll get to that," Derek said through too many teeth before he dove back in to scrape his teeth over the pebbled flesh of Stiles' nipple again.

Derek did give the rest of Stiles the same attention. Stiles had teeth marks and little pricks from Derek's claws littering the inside of his thighs before Derek even touched his aching cock for the first time. With his clawed hand.

Derek made a cage out of his hand, all five claws pricking into the sensitive skin of Stiles' shaft. It felt as if he was slicing him open from root to tip and just because he could, Derek did it again. Stiles was done when sharp teeth clamped down on one of his testicles. He came screaming.

But Derek wasn't done with him just yet. He wiped his hand on Stiles' stomach, coating him with his own come before he roughly manhandled him to his front.

Derek nosed and licked at his entrance but he didn't waste time with prep. And neither with getting the lube. The second Stiles realized that Derek was about to fuck him with only spit to ease the way he was about to tell him to take the moment to get the lube but there was heat pooling in his belly. He wanted this, he wanted Derek to take him like this, to fuck him so hard that he wouldn't be able to sit for days.

"Do it." Stiles let his leg fall apart just a little wider. "Fuck me. Make me feel it. Please, Derek. Mount me and make me take it."

Derek bit down on one of his butt cheeks, leaving another imprint there, before he spread his cheeks, the tips of his claws digging into Stiles' flesh. Stiles had only a moment to brace himself before Derek shoved in. He snapped his hips forward and then he was buried balls deep in Stiles. It hurt and Stiles couldn't help the tears pricking his eyes but he forced his body to stay relaxed and open when Derek started to thrust into him.

He fucked him hard and fast, chasing his own orgasm. At one point he was snatching Stiles up, bringing him into an upright position so that gravity made Stiles take him even deeper. Like a rag doll Stiles felt himself bouncing on Derek's cock but no matter how rough the werewolf was with him, even now Stiles felt safe in his hands. Derek was holding him and wouldn't let him fall.

When Derek was done with him, Stiles dropped boneless back on the mattress, Derek's come slowly dripping out of his abused hole. His whole body was sore and aching and Stiles loved it.

"Am I marked enough?" Stiles asked. The words came out slurred, his throat was too dry and his mind still floating somewhere.

Derek stretched out next to him, humming in content when he drew the covers over both of them. He didn't bother with cleaning Stiles up but that would defeat the point, wouldn't it? Stiles snuggled closer to Derek, seeking the warmth of his body and he was welcomed with open arms.

Stiles might have drifted off for a few minutes, he wasn't sure but Derek was holding him and he made a nice pillow, thank you very much.

"Did I hurt you?" Derek asked when Stiles was more or less awake again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ... it's just ... I'm sorry."

"Shh," Stiles made. "It was good. I liked it. I like it when you go all alpha on me."

"But you're in pain."

Stiles couldn't deny that. His body was aching and he didn't want to think about tomorrow when he would feel it for real. However, he wanted to feel it. He wanted to feel for days how Derek had marked him.

"It's a good kind of pain." Stiles rubbed his cheek into Derek's chest. He was more than ready to go to sleep now. But then something crossed his mind, making him chuckle.

"What?"

"Can you imagine Scott's face when he sees me tomorrow?" This was going to be epic. Stiles was pretty sure that every werewolf in the building knew what they had just done, and part of him was wondering why nobody had come to his rescue when he'd clearly been screaming in pain, but seeing the evidence all over his body? That was something entirely different.

"I don't know what Scott looks like," Derek answered.

It took Stiles a second to comprehend that answer but then he burst out laughing.

"You'll meet him tomorrow," Stiles promised once he'd sobered up again. "And no running this time."

"No running."

"Where did you run anyway?" Stiles wondered.

"Into the woods." Derek shrugged. "Found that tree."

Stiles hadn't expected anything else, there wasn't much where one could run to around here and that tree was up to something with Derek. Stiles just wasn't sure if he liked that or not. He wanted to tree to help but the one at home had taught him to be wary. However, this Nemeton wasn't hurt, it wasn't lashing out blindly.

"Did it talk to you?" It had gone quite some length to give Derek a message, maybe it was more chatty in person.

"The same message again." With a sigh, Derek drew him even closer as if he feared that Stiles would just disappear on him. "You are."

Stiles kissed his sternum and then he settled back.

"Let's deal with Scott first."

Stiles fell asleep in Derek's arms with his head on Derek's chest.

He woke up alone. Which didn't come as a surprise, the last few days had been rather stressful. But the other side of the bed was still warm so Derek couldn't be gone for long. For a moment Stiles just lay there, looking up at the ceiling, and wondered if he could get away with staying in bed all day. As an answer, his phone beeped with an incoming message.

It was from Scott, asking if Stiles would like to join them for breakfast. And if he wanted to bring Derek. Stiles read the message a second and a third time. It sounded like a peace offering. The diner was neutral ground. Sometimes Scott did have good ideas.

Stiles texted back that he needed a shower first but they could meet at the diner in about half an hour? They could just walk there together but that would mean they would meet Derek in the parking lot and that sounded too much like some gang standoff. Derek was not his dirty little secret, he wasn't. And no matter what Scott and the others might think, he was way more than just a shade with a pretty face.

When Stiles rolled out of bed, he was glad that Derek wasn't there to witness him hissing and moaning in pain. He would fuss all over him. Feeling like ninety, Stiles limped over to the bathroom. The hot shower helped.

His skin was too tender, there wasn't an inch that wasn't marked one way or the other, so Stiles just let the water rinse off the worst and then he carefully dabbed his body with the fluffiest towel he had at hand.

His jeans felt too tight, same for his shirt but at the same time every throbbing spot, every dull pain made him grin like an idiot. Derek had marked him properly.

They hadn't talked about what Derek wanted to wear today so Stiles pictures him in the same outfit as yesterday. Plus some underwear, he wasn't going to make that mistake again.

The second Derek was there he was scanning the room to make sure that they were alone but then his eyes were on Stiles. They were always on Stiles.

"You are in pain," he observed and stepped closer to take his hand but Stiles yanked it away. He could have slapped him in the face, the outcome would have been the same. Derek flinched back and averted his eyes but Stiles still caught the hurt expression on his face.

"Derek." Slowly he reached for him and when Derek let him, he took his hand in his. "I like this kind of pain. I don't want you to take it way. Sorry if I startled you."

"You like it?" There was hope in his eyes.

"I do." Stiles leaned in and kissed him on the lips. "And I can't wait to show off the marks you left on me." It was true, fucked up but true. Scott was his alpha and after yesterday he was trying to give them a fresh start and Stiles was about to come in with the marks of another alpha all over him. And he was looking forward to it.

"They are waiting for us at the diner." Stiles had waited until the others had left before he had summoned Derek. "How does breakfast sound?"

"I could eat." Derek squeezed his hand and didn't let go.

They walked the short distance to the diner but with his crutches, it was impossible to hold hands. Derek solved that problem by putting his hand between Stiles' shoulder blades and he didn't let go even when Stiles knew that the others were watching them from inside.

Jane greeted them with a smile and pointed them towards the two tables the others had pushed together. There were still two seats waiting for them. Stiles glanced over to Derek, took a deep breath and then he walked over to the waiting group. Peter was the only one who already knew Derek so naturally, he was more watching Scott and the other two than the newcomers.

Stiles' focus was on Scott. Him he could read like an open book and what he was seeing there now was highly amusing. It went from open-mouthed surprise to blushing when he got a whiff of Stiles' scent, to something territorial that was all alpha but in the end, he just stammered a bit and offered them a seat.

"Guys, this is Derek," Stiles introduced him. "Derek, this is Scott. That's Erica, and no you can't eat him alive, and the other one is Isaac."

Erica pouted a bit but she had been undressing Derek with her eyes, there was no denying that.

"Nice to meet you." Isaac was the only one who looked as if he was actually fine with Derek in their middle. He was also the only one who had a real look at Derek. Erica still looked as if she wanted to lick Derek's Adam's apple, among other things, and Scott's attention was still more on Stiles than on Derek.

"Dude, you …" Scott gestured at his own neck as if there was any possible way that Stiles had looked in the mirror this morning and had not noticed his colorful neck. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Jane saved them by pouring Stiles and Derek their cups of coffee and asking for their order. The others had already ordered but they had told Jane to wait until they were all there.

"Your usual?" She asked to which Stiles nodded happily and Derek ordered the same as last time.

"No one can resist our breakfast." She gave Derek a warm smile. "Morning person or not."

"What was that about?" Scott wondered once Jane had left but Stiles didn't really want to explain that one.

Isaac had been watching the whole exchange like he was watching everything. Now he raised a hand and poked Derek in the shoulder.

"What?" Derek glared at him but Isaac poked him again.

"I don't know what you are but you're not a shade," Isaac said.


	44. Chapter 44

"I don't think Derek's nature is a topic for this location," Peter intervened.

Isaac poked Derek one more time, for good measure, Stiles guessed, but then he left it at that. He did, however, keep a wary eye on Derek.

"I haven't heard from Malia in a while," Peter prompted and it was enough to launch them into stories from Beacon Hills. Peter had been gone longer than Stiles but they both had missed quite a lot. But it looked as if the pack was doing fine without them. It hurt a little bit but on the other hand, Stiles was happy that everybody was alive and well and that they were looking after each other. He was part of the pack, that hadn't changed, Scott was still his alpha, but at the same time, he felt like a stranger.

Under the table, Stiles reached for Derek's hand and found it searching for his. He was sitting here with the marks of another alpha littering his body and he had no doubt that he was reeking of sex and Derek, the others were just too polite to point it out. At least not in public. That was the reason they were here in the first place, neutral ground where they all were forced to play nice.

Which didn't keep Scott from glaring daggers at Derek. If they weren't sitting on different sides of the table, Scott would be all over Stiles to cover up Derek's scent with his own, Stiles had no doubt.

"So, Derek," Erica brought the attention back to him. They had finished their meal and were now nursing their last coffee, ready to leave in a minute or two. "Tell us about yourself."

"What do you want me to tell?" Derek asked with a glance at Stiles like he always did when he didn't know what to do.

"How they met is obvious," Isaac pointed out. "And what they were doing is obvious too. Man, you really need a shower."

"I did shower," Stiles muttered into his cup of coffee but Isaac's attention was on Derek. Trying to figure out how he was different from his usual shades, Stiles guessed.

"No, I mean about yourself," Erica got them back to her question. "What do you like, what do you not like? Are you going to murder Stiles in his sleep?" Erica gave Derek a sweet smile. "Things like that."

"I'm not going to murder Stiles in his sleep."

"See, that's a start." Erica beamed at him.

"I don't like how you're looking at me." Derek held her gaze and even if Stiles couldn't see his eyes from this angle, he knew that there was red bleeding into them.

Across from them, Peter was having way too much fun with this. Stiles glared at him but hurried to get back to Derek and Erica who were still in some kind of standoff.

"That's enough!" Scott let out a low growl and there was red in his eyes as well. Usually, Scott was easy-going, instant friends with everyone, but now he looked as if he wanted to rip Derek apart. It was kind of unsettling.

"Can we go now?" Derek asked with his eyes lowered and already half out of his seat. Retreating from the other alpha.

"Yeah." Stiles reached for his crutches. "See you at the motel, guys."

They walked in silence until they were out of werewolf earshot.

"That went well." Stiles let out a sigh. And it wasn't over yet, he was pretty sure that sooner or later at least Scott would corner Derek. If he could ever convince them that Derek was more than an elaborated shade he wasn't sure either but by now he really didn't care about their opinion any longer. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to stay in Scott's pack.

If he managed to make Derek permanent, he would need a pack and Stiles knew exactly who Derek considered pack.

"They don't like me."

"They don't know you," Stiles corrected but he knew that Derek was right.

Back at the motel, Stiles wanted to go straight to his room and maybe lock the door but he stopped dead when he saw Theo. The old man was sitting in a chair on the porch, a blanket over his legs and an expression on his face that said loud and clear how unhappy he was with the situation.

"When did you get out of the hospital?" Stiles asked. He had a long look at the other man but he looked just as always. Definitely not as if he had been unconscious for a day without an explanation.

"Just now. Vivian gave us a ride." He made a face and tugged at the blanket but the second he was about to throw it off, Edith appeared in the door. Rolling her eyes as if he was an unreasonable toddler, she hurried over and tucked him back in.

"You heard Vivian, you have to be careful." She patted his knee through the blanket.

"If I stay under this you can bring me back in right away. With a heat stroke," he protested and tried to get rid of the blanket once again. Edith just let out a long-suffering sigh and tucked him back in. Stiles didn't want to know for how long they had been playing this game.

"But the doctors say you're alright?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, me and Bobby both." He washed a hand down his face as if he still couldn't believe what had happened to him. "But I'm telling you, that was our last fishing trip for a while."

"I bet," Stiles remembered the stories the old librarian had told them. This was not the first disappearance around here and who knew, if Peter hadn't been able to follow their tracks, maybe Theo and Bobby would still be out there. They could have died and not been found for years. It had happened before. And judging by the look on Edith's and Theo's face, they both knew it. Not that they would ever admit it.

"Heard we have new guests," Theo changed the topic. "That Derek's family you were talking about?"

It was more like Stiles' family but he had to stick to the story he'd told Theo.

"Yes," Stiles confirmed. "But don't call the police on them, please? So far they have been playing nice." More or less. At least there had been no bloodshed. Yet.

They said goodbye to Theo and Edith and went back to their room. Stiles did lock the door. Not as if that would actually keep out a werewolf if he really wanted to come in. But at least Scott was not the kind of werewolf who broke down doors if he could help it.

"What a mess." Stiles threw his crutches aside and slumped down in a chair.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Make a run for it?" Stiles only half-joked. It was tempting. Just get his car and get out of here. The only thing holding him back was the Nemeton. He might still need it and with that message for Derek it was clearly interested in their case. If that was a good or a bad thing Stiles didn't know but he was willing to take the risk.

"Can we?" Derek sounded so hopeful, it sobered Stiles up instantly.

"I won't let anybody hurt you," Stiles promised. "And I'm not just leaving with them." He didn't know if that was something that had crossed Derek's mind but it didn't hurt to make that point clear. "No matter what they say or if they like you or not, I'm staying with you."

Derek didn't point out that they were bound together, of course Stiles would stay with him. But Stiles could always choose to simply not summon him any longer. Which was also a thing that was not going to happen. He hoped Derek knew that.

"We need to make you real." That was the crucial point. After that, they were free to go wherever they wanted. Probably not back to Beacon Hills, though. At the diner earlier it had become clear, Stiles had drifted apart from the pack. He still liked them, cared for them but he didn't feel as if he was still pack. It wasn't a new feeling, he realized that now. He just never had a reason to think about it too closely. His pack had always been something to come back to, home, in a way, but he had stayed away too often and too long for it to last.

Family dinners were about to become awkward, Stiles realized with a groan.

"You're not going to kill somebody for me," Derek emphasized again.

"You are," Stiles repeated the message again. He had the feeling that this was the key. "You are what?" That was the big question. Why couldn't come a clue with a nice instruction? Just once?

"I'm a lot of things," Derek supplied which wasn't really helpful.

"You are a shade, that's the problem." Stiles grabbed his crutches again, he needed to move for this. He ignored the sour face Derek made at that comment, he was simply stating facts here. "You are a man, a werewolf, an alpha." If he had his hands free while he was walking up and down the room he would be counting the points off his fingers.

"Yes?" Derek was watching him from his spot in the chair but he was clearly not seeing the point here.

"You're a good lover." Stiles gave him a smirk. "You're kind and loving. And a million other adjectives." Stiles groaned in frustration, this wasn't going anywhere. He could list all of Derek's attributes and he would still get nowhere.

"Cogito ergo sum," Derek said, musing.

Stiles had been on his way away from him but now he swirled around so fast, he tangled his legs with his crutches and he needed a second to sort out his limbs.

"What did you just say?"

"Cogito ergo sum," Derek repeated. "You said that when I asked you if I was real. You said because I asked I already am."

Stiles remembered that. That phrase had come up quite often when he had been researching the definition of life and self-awareness and all that.

"Cogito ergo …," Stiles mumbled to himself while he paced up and down the room again. It was right there, he knew it. It had been there all along. "Cogito ergo sum, I think therefore I am. I am. You are." Stiles stopped facing the wall and for a second he felt the urge to hit his head against it. It was so obvious.

"You are." Stiles turned around. "Don't you get it? You are."

Derek clearly did not get it and was waiting for an explanation instead.

"I am what?" He prompted when Stiles didn't start speaking.

"Alive," Stiles told him, grinning like an idiot.

"I'm not." Now Derek was looking at him as if he was talking nonsense. "I'm not like you and Peter or anybody else."

"Yes, you're right. You're not like me or them. That's right and we still need to fix that. But ..." Stiles pointed at him with his crutch. "... that doesn't mean you're not alive."

Derek glared at him, still not getting it.

"Good news, we won't have to kill anybody to fix this."

Derek's expression softened a bit but he was still waiting for an explanation.

"Bad news, I have no clue how to fix the rest." Defeated Stiles dropped into the other chair. "That is still about the balance thing but how do you balance that?" He didn't even know how to define what was still missing so he had no clue how to counter it to keep the balance.

"I still don't understand what you mean with I'm alive."

"C'mon, it's obvious." At least now it was obvious, five minutes ago he had been as lost as Derek still was. "You eat, you sleep, you fucking poop."

Derek made a face at the last part but he was listening.

"When you and Peter fought, you left traces of blood behind, at least I'm pretty sure some of it was yours," Stiles continued. "And for sure you leave semen behind when you vanish, that's a fact. I had to wash it off this morning. After you were gone."

Derek was now looking at him, considering.

"But I'm still a shade."

"Yes and no." Stiles thought about it for a moment and the pieces were coming together just like that. "When Peter came here, he thought you were another werewolf, you know, a real one." It sounded wrong, wording it like this but Derek gestured for him to continue. "He knows my shades and even after you two fought, he was surprised when he realized that you weren't flesh and blood. And Isaac. He actually said it earlier. He doesn't know what you are but you're not a shade. Not any longer. Haven't been for quite a while."

Stiles had no idea how it had happened but with most of his magic, he didn't really know how it worked. He wasn't one for strict rituals and chanting Latin under a full moon. His magic was something more instinctive, something more primal. And it looked as if he had actually created life without even knowing. And without sacrificing anybody to keep the balance so fuck the balance.


	45. Chapter 45

Stiles was close to solving this, he could feel it. And Derek was a good sounding board. He gave just the right amount of supply and doubt or he just repeated the right thing to get Stiles thinking. Together they could solve this.

However, just when he was warming up to this, there was a knock at the door.

Stiles threw a glance at Derek who mouthed "Scott" back at him. Of course, it was Scott, who else?

"Hey, Scotty," Stiles greeted him too cheerfully when he opened the door.

"I just wanted to ..." Scott started but then paused and peeked around Stiles to where Derek was sitting at the table. "Did you summon him again?"

"No." Stiles was tempted to just shut the door in his face but then he did step aside and let him in. He couldn't avoid Scott forever.

"I didn't know your shades last this long." Scott sounded almost excited and the way he was looking at Derek didn't sit right with Stiles either. As if he was an attraction at a freak show.

"Derek lasts that long," Stiles corrected. He hadn't summoned any other shade in quite a while so he didn't actually know if it was just Derek or if he'd built up his magical stamina and every shade would last this long. He had no intention to find out any time soon, though.

"You got better with that spell," Scott praised as if Stiles had learned a new trick. Stiles almost expected a "good boy" and a pat on his head but instead, Scott said: "Peter said that you're serious with ... you know." He jerked his head in Derek's direction.

"I am serious with making Derek permanent if that's what you mean," Stiles said coldly. "And he's right there."

Derek was just watching them with interest and that alone set him apart from any other shade Stiles had ever summoned but Scott didn't seem to notice. Or he hadn't listened when Stiles had explained the concept to him, that was more likely. And he hadn't really paid attention to the shades Stiles had summoned around him. C'mon, if this were some video game, Stiles would be spamming this spell. And still, Scott didn't even know the basics.

"Stiles." Scott took a breath as if he was about to explain something complicated to a toddler. "I know he looks very real and I bet he feels real too." He had a pointed look at Stiles' neck. "But you're saying it yourself. You have to summon him, he lasts only for so long. You're not seeing straight here. What that witch told me, Stiles please, trying something like that ... that's not you." He gave him the puppy eyes and Stiles had never been able to resist those. "I might not know a lot about magic, about your magic, but I know you're not evil and for sure you're not stupid. Black magic, Stiles, you know better than that."

Stiles couldn't stand those eyes and he had to give Scott that he had a point there. However, Scott didn't know Derek, he didn't know that he wasn't just a shade.

"Peter said it too if you're dabbling with black magic, you're playing with fire," Scott continued. "It can kill you. Or drive you insane." The last part hit home. Stiles could live with the possible dying part, it was part of his job but the other thing? Eichen House came to mind. And Lydia. Bad things had happened at Eichen House. No, Stiles would rather die.

"Stiles, please?"

"Okay." Stiles gave him a nod and sat down on the bed. "No black magic, I swear."

"You won't try to bring the ... to bring Derek to life?" Scott wasn't just taking the easy answer and for sure he was listening to Stiles' heartbeat to detect a lie. Stiles knew how to lie to a werewolf, he had used that even on Scott before, but this time it wasn't necessary.

"I promise." Stiles looked him straight in the eye. "I won't try to bring Derek to life."

Scott studied him for a moment longer but seemed satisfied with his answer.

"I'll leave you to it then." He gestured between Stiles and Derek and Stiles wondered what he thought they were doing here. There might be still some of what they had been doing last night lingering in the air but when Scott had come in, they had both been fully dressed and neither of them had thought of sexy times, quite the opposite, they had been working.

"We can do some stuff together later?" Scott asked. "Maybe check the garage to see when your car will be ready? Isaac can drive it home since you can't, with your cast and all that. And once we're all back in Beacon Hills we'll forget about all this." His gaze flickered over to Derek with his last words and for that alone Stiles wanted to punch him.

However, Scott didn't just leave. He stood there in the door frame, hand at the door but he didn't leave. He was clearly fighting with himself and Stiles wondered what else was going on in his mind.

"You okay, Scott?" Derek asked and it almost made Stiles laugh. Even if Scott denied Derek's existence, Derek was still worried that there was something wrong with him.

Scott ignored him but he did take a deep breath and the _fuck it_ was visible on his face when he turned back to Stiles.

"Stiles." He was almost pleading. "Was it something I did?"

That came out of nowhere and for a second Stiles just gaped at him with no clue what he even meant.

"C'mon, Stiles," Scott almost yelled but it wasn't quite enough to cover up his hurt expression. "You basically dreamed up another alpha for you." He gestured at Derek as if it wasn't clear who he was talking about. "You're barely home and you never stay for long. Is it me? Did I push you away? I know I spent more time with Kira nowadays and the pack ... they need me too. But that doesn't mean that you're not my best friend anymore." He paused, his eyes too shiny and his hand twitching as if he had to hold back to not come over and hug Stiles.

"Scott." Stiles slumped in on himself. He had been worried about how Scott would take the whole shade thing, he had forgotten about the alpha thing. "That's not it. I didn't come up with Derek to replace you. You're my brother, I love you." Now it was Stiles with the too shiny eyes. "This is not about you, us. It's not." And it was true. It didn't matter if Scott was still his alpha or not, he was still his best friend.

"So why?" Scott asked. "Why is he here, then?"

Stiles didn't have an answer to that. He honestly didn't know. It had been an accident but he was not saying that with Derek sitting right there.

"It doesn't matter why or how," Stiles said instead. "He's here and I'm glad that he's here." He counted on both werewolves to hear the truth in his words. "And I'm responsible for him. I started this and I have to finish it. I can't leave him in this half-state."

"Are you even listening to yourself? He's a shade. He's not real." And they were back to that, great. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"You don't understand." Suddenly he felt just tired. "And you don't want to understand."

Scott gave him another look, debating with himself if he should say something or not, but then he turned and slammed the door behind himself.

"That was fun." Stiles huffed and let his head fall back. Maybe the ceiling held some answers.

"Is he right?" Derek asked instead.

"With what?"

"That you dreamed me up to replace him?" Derek asked.

"No!" Stiles wanted to kick Scott's ass for planting that thought in Derek's head. "Honestly, I don't know how or why I came up with your form. I needed an alpha werewolf and yes, I thought I would get something that looked like Scott. I got you. It wasn't planned or anything, but I never wanted to replace Scott. That thought never even crossed my mind." It was true, Scott's accusation had blindsided him because he had never thought in that direction.

"Do you want me to?" Derek asked and Stiles got the feeling that they were having a fundamental conversation here.

"Want you to do what?"

"Replace him," Derek said quietly. "He's your alpha but last night, you asked me to mark you. You were showing off my marks and you didn't shower that thoroughly."

Derek had a point there. To him, Stiles was pack, his only pack, so it was understandable that he was a bit possessive. But Stiles had never thought about it. Looked like there was a lot he hadn't thought about. Sue him, he mostly lived in the moment. Elaborated plans were more Peter's thing. Stiles was all action and reaction, it was in his magic as well. He rather acted on instinct than to work out a plan or follow a ritual. He probably should do the same here. Just follow his instincts and forget the rituals.

But now Derek was forcing him to think about this.

"I'm not a werewolf, I don't need an alpha," Stiles stated.

"Do you want one?" Derek's face closed off, unreadable. But that alone made him more readable than ever, he was waiting for rejection. For Stiles to say that he either wanted to stay with Scott or that he didn't need an alpha at all.

"Scott is my best friend, step-brother actually," Stiles said carefully. "But I don't need him to be my alpha." That was the truth, he had learned that over the last few minutes.

Derek's face became a little softer but he kept up his guard.

"You are important to me and I really like you." Stiles wasn't sure if he was ready to bring out the three big words but it came close. "But we're so tangled up in each other, I don't know what feelings are real. Same for you, you only know me." That was a problem. It had been lingering in the back of his mind for a while now. Since he had made the decision to make Derek real. He might have researched Stockholm Syndrome recently.

"Do you want me to leave?" Derek asked and Stiles could almost see his broken heart.

"No," Stiles hurried to say. "And yes, I want you to be my alpha."

Derek dared to look at him with hope in his eyes and when Stiles patted the spot next to him on the bed, Derek hadn't to be told twice.

"I won't bring you over just to abandon you," Stiles promised. "You're stuck with me."

If Derek had a tail he would wag it now but since he didn't have one, he opted for a kiss. And he slipped a hand under Stiles' shirt.

"We shouldn't …," Stiles started but then Derek found one of the marks he'd left and he pushed his thumb into the abused flesh, making Stiles hiss. "Damn."

Hungrily their lips met again while Derek searched for another spot he'd marked. Not that he had to search long for that, Stiles was littered with marks. Hickies, bruises, and imprints of his teeth and claws. Stiles wasn't sure if he was hissing in pain or moaning with pleasure, he just wanted Derek to keep on going and to keep him kissing like he wanted to eat him alive.

Eventually, Derek found a nipple and that really hurt. They had been tender all day, the friction of his shirt almost too much, but when Derek pinched the abused flesh now, Stiles had to bite his lip to keep back a whimper.

"All mine," Derek whispered in his ear and it went straight to Stiles' cock.

"Yours."

Derek dropped to his knees between Stiles' spread legs and a short struggle with his jeans later, Derek's mouth sank down on him.

"Fuck." Stiles had forgotten about the none existing gag reflex. Derek was taking him to the root with ease and now the muscles of his throat were working the head of Stiles' cock while Derek was holding him there for a sweet long moment.

When he started to bob up and down, with a swirl of his tongue over the head each time, his claws found Stiles' nipple again. It didn't take long for Stiles to tumble over the edge. He spilled his release deep in Derek's throat while Derek swallowed around him, milking every last drop out of him.

"Fuck, that was good." Stiles dropped bonelessly on the mattress the second Derek let go of his nipple.

Derek gave him a proud grin but then he hurried to get his own cock in hand. Still dazed Stiles watched him. Derek was looming over him, his rock hard cock in hand and without taking his red eyes off Stiles he brought himself over the edge. His semen hit Stiles' bare stomach and his shirt in long spurts, marking him even more.

"Mine."


	46. Chapter 46

Peter knew that in the beginning, he had his troubles, accepting Derek. Accepting that he was more than just a shade. But unlike Scott Peter had been willing to listen. And he had observed. He had given himself time to make up his mind about Derek. He had seen him with Stiles, with Theo and Edith. In the end, he had to agree with Stiles. Derek was way more than just a shade.

Scott didn't want to give it time. He knew Derek was a shade and that was it.

After breakfast, Stiles and Derek wanted to be left alone but of course, Scott knew better. Peter didn't stay close enough to hear what they were saying but he was there when Scott came back. Peter was leaning against the wall just two doors down from Stiles, waiting for him.

"Did you get your answers?" Peter asked knowing full well that Scott hadn't gotten the answers he had been looking for. Maybe if he had asked the right questions but not like this.

"He's so stubborn." Scott huffed but didn't stomp right past Peter.

"He's Stiles," Peter offered and didn't add that Scott could be rather stubborn as well.

"I think I lost him."

"What makes you think that?"

"That shade, Derek." Scott pushed his hands deep into his pockets. "Did I do something? Did I say something wrong? Why is he replacing me with that ... that … thing?"

Ah, that was what this was about.

"Not everything is about you, Scott," Peter told him. It got him a glare and then Scott stormed off to the room Isaac and Erica were sharing. There he might find the comfort he was looking for, Peter guessed.

Lately, it had been difficult to stay connected to his alpha. Scott was still his alpha, no doubt about that, but Peter wasn't really feeling it any longer. Maybe it was the age difference or maybe it was just Scott. Maybe it was his own fault. He wasn't even sure when he'd been to Beacon Hills the last time. There was still a Hale in Beacon Hills, Malia had taken his name years ago and she was living up to it, no doubt, and Peter didn't feel too bad for not coming home for longer periods of time. Thinking about Malia, he didn't feel that connected to her either. They never really had a father-daughter relationship but out of the whole pack he should feel closest to her but he was not. That would be Stiles. After they had separated they hadn't spent that much time together either but it was him Peter felt the strongest bond to. They were similar, in some ways.

Deep in thoughts, Peter walked down the row of doors and stopped in front of Stiles'. He was about to knock when he caught noises that told him that now wasn't a good time. But it did sound as if Stiles was having a good time.

Peter went back to his own room and thankfully the others left him alone for now. Their focus was on Stiles anyway. Peter spent the next hour in his room, thinking. And he made a few decisions.

 _We need to talk_ , he sent a message to Stiles. _Alone_

 _Derek is here_ , came the prompt answer and Peter knew that Stiles wouldn't cut Derek's existence short just to have a chat with Peter and he doubted that he would let Derek out of his sight while Scott and the others were here.

 _Tonight?_ Peter asked, knowing that Derek would run out of juice eventually and that Stiles would summon him again for the night. It was kind of scary how predictable this had become. Like a routine.

 _Okay_ , came the answer. _Scott wants to go to the garage in a bit. Can you keep an eye on Derek?_

 _Sure,_ Peter wrote back. Derek didn't need a babysitter but maybe he needed a bodyguard. It was feeding into Peter's thoughts and decisions that Stiles considered him trustworthy.

Scott and Stiles left shortly after lunch. Isaac had gotten them sandwiches from the diner which they, Derek included, had eaten in Peter's room. When his room had become common space Peter didn't know but it was better than Stiles' which would be reeking of sex. Again. At least Stiles had taken a shower before he had come over.

However, Scott and Stiles left in Scott's car which left Peter with the kids. Erica and Isaac had both finished their meal but neither of them showed any intention to leave any time soon.

They were watching Derek who had also finished his sandwich and was now sitting at the table, looking lost. He didn't like being separated from Stiles, Peter knew that. And having Isaac and Erica here, watching him as if they were waiting for him to do something interesting wasn't helping either.

"What happens with the food you eat?" Erica broke the silence. "Don't tell me you leave piles of chewed food when you vanish." She made a face at that thought.

"What happens to the food you eat?" Derek asked her, a challenging eye on her.

"Well ... I ... what?" She glanced over to Isaac for support. "You do know that you're not real, right? Any time now and you go poof." She made an exploding gesture with her hands.

"They don't know," Isaac whispered to her but Peter wouldn't have to be a werewolf to hear it. For sure Derek had heard it as well.

"I do know," Derek said. "That I go poof." He said it dryly and without any gestures. It made Erica squirm.

Peter knew that he should keep them from prodding Derek but this was too entertaining. Peter settled back and watched the show.

"You understand the question, then." Erica wasn't backing down. "You just ate a sandwich, what happens to it when you vanish?"

Derek didn't answer, he just raised his eyebrow at her.

"And your clothes, did Stiles come up with them or are they real?" Erica reached over to feel the sleeve of his leather jacket but Derek jerked his arm out of her reach.

"Don't touch me," he growled and there was alpha in his voice. Erica snatched her hand back as if she had burned it.

"Touchy," Isaac commented but at least he wasn't poking him again.

"Leave him alone." Peter stood up and collected the empty wrappers. When would these kids ever learn to clean up behind themselves? Sometimes it felt as if they were still teenagers, running around as if they knew what was going on in the world. Some things never changed.

But Erica's comment about the clothes gave Peter an idea.

"Derek, you want to get out of here for a while?"

It was telling how quickly Derek agreed without even asking what Peter had in mind.

He did ask when they were in the car, though.

"I was thinking the mall," Peter said while the welcome sign was already getting smaller in the rearview mirror. "Once you're not going to go poof any longer, you'll need real clothes."

"You want to go shopping with me?"

"Why not?" Peter shrugged. "Better than answering questions about your digestive system."

Derek couldn't say anything against that.

"Here, text Stile where we are." Peter handed him his phone. He wasn't sure if Derek even knew how to use it but Derek immediately started typing. It seemed to be one of the built-in features Stiles' shades came with. It made sense, a shade should be able to call for help if necessary.

They drove in silence for a while, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Peter had wanted to talk to Stiles first, this wasn't planned, but since he had Derek right here, why not talk to him first.

"Stiles is going to go through with his plan." He broke the silence. "No matter what Scott says, he is going to make you real."

"I know."

"The only one who could stop him is you, you know that, right?"

"Do you want me to tell him no?" Derek asked. Peter didn't sense any emotion in his words, Derek just wanted to know where Peter stood. But Peter had the suspicion that he did care about his answer here.

"That's your call," Peter answered honestly. "Your decision. And I'm going to make sure that Stiles is going to tell you the truth, the whole truth, before you make that decision."

"He's not going to kill somebody."

"He might have to," Peter said. "But we could find somebody bad, somebody who deserves it." For all Peter cared they could just grab somebody off the streets but he knew that Stiles would need at least a hint of bad before he would kill somebody. Derek, however, was against killing. Period. He had made that clear.

"He doesn't have to," Derek said and he seemed certain. "It's like the Nemeton says, I already am."

Of course, Peter remembered the message, it still didn't make sense to him.

"You are what?"

"Alive," Derek said. "Erica was asking the right question. What does happen to the sandwich I ate?"

In stunned silence, Peter listened to his explanation. It made sense. What he had seen of Derek over the last few days supported that idea. If it weren't for the fact that Derek did go poof, as Erica had put it, he could pass as a real person. Hell, he had fooled Peter when they had first met.

"So, does that mean you want to go through with the ritual?" Peter asked once he had filed the new information away. He had no idea how Stiles had done it, all the information they had been gathering so far had made it clear, things like this didn't just happen. They came with a price tag, usually a bloody one. Sometimes even a deadly one. But if he had learned one thing about Stiles, it was to not try and follow his line of thought. His mind worked in amazing ways, brilliant ways, but not along common lines. In that regard, they were quite similar. But still, Peter's mind worked quite differently from Stiles'. Same with his magic. Peter had long given up to try to understand how he did the things he was doing. Saved him countless headaches.

"Yes," Derek said after a moment. "If it's not dangerous for Stiles."

Fair enough.

"You'll need a pack."

"I have Stiles." The answer came promptly as if Derek had no doubt about that.

"He said that?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Peter couldn't say it came as a surprise. "He's not a werewolf. You'll need at least one beta. Alphas without a pack are not stable, it could drive you insane. Especially when you're not bound to Stiles any longer." Peter didn't know if Stiles had explained the latter. Making Derek a real boy was one thing but freeing him from Stiles was the other.

Derek didn't say anything to that. He just looked out of the window, lost in thoughts.

"He said I wouldn't lose him," he finally said. It was so low, Peter had to strain his ears to catch the words.

"You won't." Peter didn't know what plans Stiles had for after, if he had a plan, somehow Peter doubted that he had thought much farther than the ritual, whatever that would look like, they still hadn't come up with a solution here, but he knew without a doubt that Stiles would stick with Derek.

"Taking the leash off doesn't mean he doesn't want you any longer. It just means that you're free to choose if you want to stay with him or not." Making dog metaphors to a werewolf was probably not a good idea but it got his point across.

"I wanted to ask you something," Peter said not sure if he actually had the courage to go through with his question. "You'll need a pack, a beta."

Derek was listening, his eyes now on Peter, burning a hole into his skull. He probably knew where this was heading but he waited for Peter to spell it out.

"Would you accept me in your pack?" Peter asked with an iron grip on the steering wheel and his eyes straight ahead. He did not want to see Derek's face for this. "Would you be my alpha?"

His mother had been his first alpha and then Talia. She should have been his alpha until they both were old and Laura would have taken over. But it shouldn't have been. His family, his pack, his alpha, they all burned to death, leaving him an empty shell.

It had driven him insane. He was better now, thanks to Scott and his stupid kindness. Not everybody would have taken in a fallen alpha, an omega who was better left to die. Scott had become his alpha and he had been a good alpha. But things had changed. Peter had healed and he didn't need the kindness any longer. He still needed an alpha, though. It had been a good time, for healing and learning to live again, but now it was time to move on.

Peter chuckled to himself. Maybe his madness was back. He was asking an alpha to accept him in his pack who wasn't even a real person. But they were working on it.

"You want to be my beta?" Derek repeated with a tilt of his head.

"Yes." Peter made up his mind. "If you want me."

Instead of an answer Derek reached over and placed his hand on Peter's neck. He must feel Peter's pulse under his palm.

Peter let his head fall to the side, baring his neck as much as he dared. He was still driving and it would put a damper on the moment if they ended up in a ditch.


	47. Chapter 47

Stiles was in the car with Scott but his mind was on Derek. Being separated from him didn't feel right, especially with Erica in the mix. Isaac was okay, out of the pack he was the one who understood the most, but Erica was something else. Usually, Stiles liked the straightforward way of hers but he wasn't sure if Derek was ready for that. He could only hope that Peter would keep his word and was watching out for Derek.

Only with a delay, Stiles realized that he hadn't counted Peter as pack.

Out of the pack, Peter was the one who understood him the most, Isaac came second, he corrected himself.

"You had sex with it again," Scott broke the silence. In this town nothing was far away, if it hadn't been for his broken leg, they could have easily walked to the garage which was just down the road.

"He's not an it," Stiles corrected but he knew it was useless. Scott had made up his mind which most of the time it was a good thing. Scott saw what was right and what was wrong and he stuck to it. He had a moral compass Stiles was jealous of sometimes. But it also led to problems more often than not. Once Scott had made up his mind, it was next to impossible to change it. And he had made up his mind about Derek. He had come here with the knowledge that Stiles was about to do something stupid, something bad, and he had come here to stop him. There was no way to get him off that track, at least not an easy way.

"And you had sex," Scott repeated. "Stiles."

"I have sex with a lot of people." Why was he even defending himself?

"This is not one of your hook-ups."

Right, Scott had never been fond of that idea either. And Stiles wasn't even sleeping around like Peter. His fall back coping mechanism was to crawl into the den and let the pack pamper him. Random sex with strangers was just second on that list and only because he didn't dare to use the first one too often to not let Scott know how often he actually needed it. Thinking about it, there had been a lot going wrong between them for quite a while now.

"What do you care who I have sex with?"

"I do care when you use one of your shades as some kind of sex toy."

That hit home. In the beginning, it had been exactly that. Not that Scott needed to know that.

"I'm right, am I?" Of course, Scott had picked up on whatever Stiles was emitting. "You made yourself a very realistic sex doll and now you want more."

"What happened to the idea of him replacing you as my alpha?" Stiles threw in.

That made Scott shut up, at least until he had found a way to bring those two things together to support his opinion that what Stiles was doing here was bad.

Stiles didn't give him time to park properly before he opened the door and was out of the car. He needed a moment to sort his crutches but he was still first at the office with Scott hurrying behind him in his attempt to catch up with him.

Bobby was sitting behind his desk and his face lit up when he noticed Stiles. Scott had caught up with him but he stayed back and let Stiles do the talking.

"Back to work already?" Stiles teased but he was pretty sure that there was no reason why Bobby shouldn't be back at work. As far as he understood it, the Nemeton had only used the two men to deliver a message, the unconsciousness was probably just an unintended side effect, the tree didn't mean to harm either of them.

"Doc says there's nothing wrong with me and I still have to get your car ready." Bobby adjusted his trucker hat. "Can't thank you and your folks enough for getting us out of there. Would have been an uncomfortable night otherwise."

"You would have slept right through it," Stiles joked but he got what Bobby was trying to say. It could have been their last night. Bobby had grown up here, he knew the stories. He may even know somebody who had gone into the woods and hadn't come back.

"I feel like I'm missing something here," Scott spoke up. "Did something happen to you?"

"Yeah, ehm ..." He adjusted his hat again. "Well, it's kind of embarrassing. Theo and I were on a fishing trip and we got lost."

"Peter found them," Stiles jumped in. "He and Derek had to carry them out. Drunk as sailors, both of them." He gave Bobby a stern look who looked relieved. Stiles' story was embarrassing but still better than the truth. Not that Scott wouldn't have believed the truth.

However, Stiles didn't want him to deem the woods around here dangerous, he still needed that tree.

"Anyway." Bobby cleared his throat. "Your car. Just got the windshield in today, it should be good to go by tomorrow morning? I can push it if you need it sooner."

"Nah, tomorrow is good." Stiles tapped his cast with a crutch. "Not fit for driving anyway. And Edith would be mad if Derek and I just skipped town."

Stiles glanced at Scott who probably would have liked to get them on the road today. All of them. Minus Derek. But this way Stiles had gained some time.

On their way out Stiles' phone beeped with a new message.

"Who is it?" Scott asked and tried not so subtly to catch a glimpse of the screen.

"Peter." However, reading the message it became clear that it was Derek at the other end. Stiles typed his response and got an answer right away. "He and Derek are out of town. Shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Derek needs a few things."

Scott didn't have an answer to that but it was clear that he didn't think Derek needed anything. Stiles didn't care. It was probably for the better that Derek wasn't here right now and he had to agree with Peter, Derek did need some things. Stiles didn't even know if whatever clothes he would be wearing would come across as well. And he still hadn't figured out how to bring Derek across in the first place.

Back at the motel Stiles thanked Scott and retreated to his own room. Scott clearly didn't like it but Stiles was not going to hang out with them just so that they could judge him and belittle Derek.

In his room, Stiles took a deep breath. He needed to clear his head. He had maybe half an hour, tops, before either Isaac or Erica would be at his door, checking on him. They meant well, they did, but it became suffocating rather quickly.

Stiles lay down in the middle of the bed, arms and legs spread wide. For a while he was just lying there, letting his mind run free. At first, he was replaying his conversation with Scott, debating what Scott had meant here or there and coming up with better responses but then his mind turned to Derek. He wasn't thinking about the problem per se, he was just letting his thoughts drift.

Balance. That was the core element. Even with his more impromptu magic. Stiles didn't know where the life Derek clearly had had come from but he knew that he had to keep the balance if he wanted to bring Derek across for real.

Keep the balance, Deaton had never grown tired of repeating that to him. It had been the main reason Stiles had not become Scott's emissary. He couldn't keep the balance. He couldn't sit back and let bad things happen to the ones he loved just to keep the balance. More often than not he didn't want things balanced, he wanted them tilted. In his favor. He knew that was selfish but hey, there was a reason he wasn't an emissary right now.

Maybe that was what he should do now. Tilt it in his favor.

Worrying his bottom lip Stiles stared up at the ceiling.

To tilt it, it had to be in balance first, he reminded himself. But was it?

"It's tilted." Stiles shot up into a sitting position. "It's fucking tilted."

He and Derek were not equal, there was a clear power imbalance between them, they were not balanced. That was the goal. He wanted to make them equal. Make Derek a free and independent being. This was not about keeping the balance, it was about restoring it.

"I know what to do," Stiles told the empty room. Sadly there was nobody there to witness his epiphany.

And they wouldn't even need a ritual and ingredients and all that. He should have done it his way from the very beginning, Stiles realized, it would have saved them so much time.

However, Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted to go through with this. It wouldn't only mean a fundamental change for Derek, it would change him as well. In a way, he had never wanted. After that he wouldn't be the same, hell, he might not be able to work magic after that. And there was more than one way this could go horribly wrong.

If Peter hadn't asked for a private talk earlier, Stiles would have asked for the same now. He would need to discuss this with Derek as well but first, he wanted to hear Peter's opinion on this.

His thoughts got interrupted by a knock at the door.

 _Like clockwork_ , Stiles thought with a roll of his eyes.

At least it was Isaac and not Erica. Erica would have pestered him with questions he wasn't sure how to answer and with his mind still swirling he didn't know if he could make stuff up on the go right now. Isaac was easier.

"We thought of pizza and a movie tonight," Isaac said with an open smile. "A pack night."

"It's the middle of the day." Stiles squinted up at the sun high in the sky.

"We'll need snacks and drinks," Isaac told him as if he was a five-year-old. "And I thought you would like to get away for a bit." Away from Scott. There was a reason Stiles liked Isaac.

They drove the short distance to the only grocery store in town where Isaac grabbed a cart and Stiles followed him around.

"A movie night," Stiles mused, not sure if he liked the idea. Back home they had those quite often, at least one every time he came back home. Which wasn't as often as it used to be. And now it did look as if he already had his last one with the whole pack. Not that anybody but him knew that. Having a movie night with the few pack members he had at hand sounded like a good idea but it did turn his euphoric mood into something much more melancholic. The way Isaac was crunching his nose he had noticed the mood change in Stiles.

"Is Derek invited as well?" Stiles dared to ask.

"Do you want him to be there?" Isaac asked and turned into the next aisle. They needed chips, lots of chips. Stiles and Erica were both known for demolishing a whole bag each. And popcorn. A movie night required popcorn.

"I don't want to exclude him." The thought of having fun with the pack while Derek was sitting alone in their room was wrenching his guts.

"You could just not summon him for the evening," Isaac suggested. He had always been good at reading Stiles

"He would still know that I spent the evening with you guys."

"Would he really care? Maybe you're projecting your feelings on him," Isaac said gently. "He looks and acts pretty real and I have to admit that he's more than just an ordinary shade. But Stiles, most of the time he doesn't even exist. You're getting attached to something that just isn't real."

Stiles fought the urge to stomp his foot and to yell "he is real" like an angry toddler. Isaac was trying but he couldn't understand. He couldn't know. He hadn't been there. He hadn't seen how Derek had become what he was now.

Isaac moved on to the drinks, they needed coke and juice and Stiles felt like some liquor was required for the evening as well. In the end, they didn't even buy beer. Getting drunk didn't sound like a good idea, especially since Stiles was the only one who could get drunk. Better stick to coke.

Isaac drove them back to the motel and they agreed to meet up in Erica's and Isaac's room later. Stiles took over the task to tell Peter about that plan.

 _On my way back,_ Peter answered a few minutes later. _Derek is gone but we got some clothes for him_

 _Including underwear_

 _And a phone_

 _Thanks_ , Stiles wrote back. Peter hadn't said anything to the movie night, he might have the same mixed feelings Stiles had.

Knowing that Derek was gone for the moment, Stiles debated with himself if he should summon him again right away or if he should wait but decided on waiting for now.

Suddenly the room felt too small, the walls were crowding in on him and Stiles just wanted to get out. He grabbed his crutches and hurried over the parking lot to the office.


	48. Chapter 48

Today Edith was the one behind the counter but Stiles could hear Theo puttering around in the back.

"I'm surprised you let him out of his chair," Stiles commented with a jerk of his chin in the direction the noises were coming from.

"I should have tied him to the bed," Edith muttered and threw a not so happy glance in the same direction. "But he keeps saying that Vivian gave him the all clear and that I shouldn't worry so much." She let out a sigh.

"Saw Bobby earlier," Stiles offered. "He's back to work as well."

That did seem to ease her mind.

"It's just ... I'm worried, he isn't the youngest anymore."

She had a point there.

"Anyway, what can I do for you?" She straightened up behind the counter, all business. "Everything okay? With your room? The other guests? I can call Johnny if they are bothering you or Derek."

"It's fine, they are not bothering me," Stiles hurried to say before she could actually make the call.

"Much," He added with a sigh. "Can I hide here for a while?"

"Sure, I'd love some company." She gestured for him to come around the counter where she had a spare chair. Usually Theo's. "Where's Derek?"

"He and Peter drove into the city, they should be back soon." At least Peter should be back soon, Derek didn't even exist at the moment. Stiles should probably come up with an explanation of why Peter would come back alone but he was just sick of explanations.

"Why didn't you go with them?" Edith asked and picked up the knitting needles she had dropped when he had come in.

"I was with Scott at the garage."

"And they just left without you?" Edith guessed. She opened a drawer and pulled out some cookies. "Coffee is behind you if you want."

"How can I say no to that?" Stiles fixed himself a cup and then he was eating cookies while Edith was knitting away. The dancing needles had something domestic almost cozy to them. And they talked. Not the probing questions and accusations and assumptions Scott and the rest of his pack had been pestering him with all day, no, Edith was talking about her kids, the neighbors, and how Dough had been scared by a fish when he'd been little.

"And he still got into fishing?" Stiles licked chocolate off his thumb and debated with himself if he had room for one more cookie. Only one way to find out, he decided and reached for the box again. Edith gave him a warm smile and started talking again.

"Fishing is a big thing around here." She shook her head with a soft smile. "It was only a matter of time until he caught the Old Pete fever. Everybody catches it. Most grow out of it, though."

"How long has he been chasing that stupid fish?" Stiles wondered.

When there was a lull in their conversation Edith asked about their new guests. Of course, she did, this was a small town, they were the most interesting thing that had happened here in a while. Not that Stiles minded, he kind of liked this small town mentality.

"Scott and I grew up together."

"He's important to you."

"He's my best friend. Step-brother, actually." Stiles rolled his cup of coffee between his palms. "But we grew up."

"You grew apart." Edith nodded knowingly. "We all do."

"We're still close but it's not like it used to be." And with what Stiles was planning, it could break them apart for good. But he had to risk it. For Derek. And maybe for himself. Scott would be fine, he had Kira and the pack. They had done just fine without him for years now. He was there when they needed him, no question, but more often than not, they had to deal with whatever was coming for them on their own. They would be fine.

"What's on your mind?" Edith asked.

"The thing with Derek." He took a deep breath. "Scott doesn't like it."

"You're his best friend, of course it isn't easy for him if you spent more time with your boyfriend now." She patted his hand. "He'll get over it."

"He has a girlfriend."

"So you know how he feels right now."

It wasn't the same. For example, Kira was not a product of Scott's mind. But Stiles got what Edith was trying to tell him. Maybe she was right. At the moment it was all too fresh and new, once Derek was a real person and they had given Scott time to get used to the new situation, who knew, maybe they could find a new balance.

Through the front window, they watched a car pulling into the lot. Peter's.

"Is he alone?" Edith squinted out of the window but it was clearly just Peter getting out of the car. He went to the back and opened the trunk and then he was carrying bags over to his room.

"I should go and find out if he has kicked out Derek somewhere along the road." Stiles stood and reached for his crutches. "Thanks for the cookies. And the hiding spot."

"Anytime." She gave him a hug and even held the door for him so that Stiles didn't have to struggle to get it open.

Peter opened his door before Stiles could even knock. The advantage of being on crutches, everybody became a gentleman and was holding the door for him.

"How did it go?" Stiles asked once Peter had closed the door behind him. At least it gave them the illusion of privacy. Scott's room was right behind the wall and if he wanted to, he could easily listen in on them.

"Got him a few things." Peter pointed at the bags waiting right next to the door. "Even managed to talk him into some color."

"I'm impressed." Stiles was itching to dig into the bags but without Derek here it felt wrong. Like an invasion of privacy. "Hope he didn't vanish in the middle of a store."

"No, he went poof on the way back. No witnesses." Peter reached for the remote and a second later the TV came to life. Stiles still wouldn't risk talking about his plan here, though. It was sad that he was thinking of Scott in this way but it was just more proof that what he was planning was the right thing to do.

"You never leave witnesses," he teased. "And he went poof?" That didn't sound like Peter.

"Erica." Peter shrugged as if that explained everything. It kind of did. "How was your trip with Scott?"

Stiles just rolled his eyes.

"My car is going to be done by tomorrow and I kind of get the feeling that Scott is going to just stuff me in the trunk and get me home."

"Sounds like Scott," Peter agreed. "But first a movie night?"

"Yeah, just like in the good old times." It kind of felt like a goodbye. "You coming as well?" Peter did attend the pack nights they had back home in Beacon Hills but he liked to keep to himself.

"Can't hurt." There was a sad smile playing on his lips and for a second Stiles got the feeling that he was thinking of goodbye as well.

"I know what to do," Stiles changed the topic. "With Derek."

"He said something about that." Peter wanted to say more, that much was clear, but he gave the wall a pointed look. "After the movie night?"

Stiles took the bags with Derek's new clothes back to their room but he set them aside without looking at them. He wanted Derek to show them to him.

Stiles took another shower, this time a thorough one, to wash off Derek's scent. He was still carrying his marks but he didn't want to smell like Derek when he went over for their movie night.

Then he spent ten minutes debating if he should summon Derek or not. Either way felt wrong. Bringing him over felt wrong, this was a pack thing and Derek wasn't pack. Not part of Scott's pack. And leaving him alone in their room felt wrong too. But going out and having fun without Derek even existing felt more than wrong.

In the end, Stiles didn't summon Derek. He told himself that he would last the whole night that way and he really liked waking up with Derek still in his bed. It was a good enough excuse.

When it was time to go over, Stiles hesitated. These were his friends, his pack, he knew them, loved them even but at the same time, it felt as if he was about to meet with strangers. Peter would be there too, that was a comforting thought but didn't help to sort out his mixed feelings.

In the end, he did go over and after a few awkward minutes, it was almost like always. Isaac was making popcorn while Erica and Stiles were arguing which movie to watch. Scott was typing on his phone, most likely with Kira. He even took a few pictures of them when he thought that nobody would notice and then he was reading out the comments Kira and apparently Boyd and Malia were making about them.

It felt good, familiar. Even with Peter creeping around in the background.

Eventually, they settled for a movie and then they were munching on popcorn and watching the movie on Isaac's laptop they had put where the old TV had been the room had come with. Erica had been tempted to just drop the old thing but when Stiles reminded her that she would have to pay for a new one if she broke it, she had set it aside very carefully.

Stiles and Scott were lying on their front on one bed, Erica and Isaac were on the other one and Peter had dragged a chair over to sit in the middle. Smart choice, Stiles had to give him that, he had snacks from both beds within easy reach.

Nobody had mentioned that Derek wasn't there but Stiles had noticed the almost proud look Scott had given him when he'd come in alone.

However, Stiles only breathed easier when the movie was actually running and everybody was focused on what was going on on the screen. Erica and Isaac were loudly commenting and it didn't take long for Stiles to join in. It felt good, he couldn't deny that. He glanced over to Peter and found him with the same wistful expression Stiles was sure he was wearing as well. Lucky them, everybody else was focused on the movie.

They took a break when the pizza arrived and Stiles felt already sorry for Edith who had to wash the sheets when they were done with them. Not as if he hadn't ruined a sheet or two over his stay already. At least he wouldn't have to sleep with kernels of popcorn.

They watched two movies and after that, they just sat together and talked. Mostly about the things Stiles had missed from Beacon Hills but he would see for himself once they got back home, Scott assured him.

Tomorrow or the day after that, they all seemed set on that and nobody bothered to ask if Stiles was fine with that. It was almost as if they didn't ask on purpose. That way he couldn't say no, Stiles guessed. And nobody mentioned Derek. They all seemed to have come to the conclusion that if they didn't mention Stiles' imaginary friend he would stay gone. It put a damper on an otherwise great evening.

Like always Peter didn't add much to the conversation but he was always watching and the bits he did add, had a little bite to it. And they were always directed at the others, never at Stiles. That did feel good.

It was way after midnight when Stiles returned to his own room. He was full and tired but the empty room sobered him up rather quickly. It was the middle of the night and he was alone in his room. That wasn't right, Derek should be here with him. Almost without thinking Stiles reached into the shady place but he caught himself before he could actually summon Derek. He couldn't summon him just yet. First, he had to talk to Peter.

 _When and where?_ Stiles wrote to Peter. This was their best chance. The others would be tired and most likely be asleep soon.

 _In an hour, just walk down the road out of town_

In that direction, there were only a few more houses before he would reach the edge of the town. Then it was just open fields and the woods. Stiles could use is magic so that nobody would be able to hear them and he could count on Peter's hearing. Nobody would be able to eavesdrop on them.

"This is like some stupid movie," Stiles muttered to himself. "Sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with a shady stranger."

The sad thing was that he felt that it was necessary to have a private conversation with Peter. They could have just taken the car over the day and drive somewhere but that would have raised questions.

When it was time, Stiles grabbed his keys, put the hood of his sweatshirt on and then he went out of the door as quietly as possible.


	49. Chapter 49

Derek had been in the car with Peter, they had been on their way back to the motel, when he'd felt that he was running out of time.

"I'm going to go poof now," he said and then the in-between was already there, he didn't even see Peter's reaction.

The next second it was dark and he was standing outside. His eyes needed a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness but he saw enough to make out Stiles' form sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. His crutches were leaning next to him but otherwise they were alone.

"Is Peter gone?" Stiles asked. The moonlight got caught in his eyes, making them shine for a moment.

Derek strained his ears but there wasn't another heart-beat nearby. Just the usual noises of the night, the little critters in the grass and bigger ones in the forest but nothing close by.

"We're alone," Derek informed him. "Where are we?"

The woods looked the same everywhere, especially at night. There was the road nearby and if Derek was not mistaken, they weren't that far out of town.

"Just a quiet place where we can talk." Stiles gestured for him to sit down next to him on the trunk. The spot still felt warm and Peter's scent was strong in the air.

"Did you just have a talk with Peter?" Derek asked, not sure if he liked the whole situation. Besides Stiles wasn't smelling like him any longer. He was smelling of Scott and Erica and Isaac. Peter too but that was something that didn't bother Derek any longer, they were pack now.

"Peter told me that he asked you to become his alpha." Stiles stretched out his legs. "That you said yes."

"I did," Derek confirmed. "Should I have asked you first?" That thought hadn't even occurred to him. He was the alpha, it was his decision. Derek felt the muscles in his jaw working, he didn't want to ask Stiles' permission, not with this.

"No." Stiles shook his head. "That's between you and Peter."

"What do you want to talk about, then?" Derek had a look around. He didn't know what time it was but it felt late. "And why are we out here? We can talk in our room." If it was still their room. Derek could never tell how much time had passed over an in-between but this one must have been more than half a day. Stiles hadn't let an in-between be this long for a while now. And he wouldn't. Not without a good reason. Derek opened his senses to get a better reading on Stiles, had he exhausted his magic?

The other reason Derek could think of was Scott. The other alpha didn't like him and he was trying to talk Stiles out of summoning him all the time. Had he succeeded? Was this some kind of goodbye?

"Scott wouldn't like what I'm about to tell you," Stiles said after a long moment. He had braced his hands on the trunk and was looking up at the nightly sky. The moon was just a sickle but the stars were bright tonight.

Derek waited for him to continue but that statement alone gave him hope. Everything Scott wouldn't like was good for him, right?

"I know how to make you permanent," Stiles said.

"How?" Derek asked but dreaded the answer. He was pretty sure that Stiles didn't have to kill anybody for this but Peter had made it clear that this kind of magic always came with a price.

"You'll have to give me the bite." Stiles kept looking up at the stars. "At the Nemeton, we'll need its power to make the bond strong enough."

"How would that help to change me?" Derek wasn't even sure if he would be able to turn Stiles. He wasn't a real alpha after all. Not real as Scott was real.

"You're already alive, we don't have to change anything there," Stiles explained. "What we need to change is the bond between us. It's not in balance."

Balance was a word that had come up quite a lot lately but as far as Derek understood it was about give and take. To give him life they had to take it from somebody else.

"I don't understand."

"At the moment you're bound to me," Stiles said. "You have to do what I want you to do, you don't even exist without me summoning you."

"Because I'm a shade." So far he could follow, turning Stiles still didn't make sense.

"When you bite me, you'll bind me to you. A bond in the other direction. As my alpha, you have power over me." Now Stiles straightened up and turned to look at him. "One bond to counter the other. If the Nemeton helps to make it strong enough they should outweigh each other. Balance."

"If the Nemeton helps us." That was a big if. "And the bite doesn't always take."

"I know."

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Derek asked. It sounded good in theory but there were too many variables in there for his liking.

"I don't know." Stiles took a breath as if he was preparing himself for a longer speech. "Worst case scenario, the bite doesn't take and I die. And you with me. Other worst-case scenario, the bite does take but the bond is not strong enough to outbalance the other bond. I might not be able to work magic as a werewolf. So I would be a newborn werewolf without an alpha and you would die. Or the bite doesn't take but it's enough to bring you over. I die, you live."

Stiles paused, his eyes on the nightly sky again.

"Not so bad scenario, it works but the bond is not strong enough and you stay bound to me. You would be permanent but basically my slave. No idea how the alpha-beta thing would work out in that case, though."

"So there are a lot of ways this can go wrong and only one where it goes well," Derek summed it up. Mirroring Stiles' position he looked up to the sky.

"Pretty much."

There were one or two semi optimal outcomes, mainly where Stiles wouldn't be able to work magic as a werewolf or where Derek would stay bound to Stiles. If he was honest, Derek wouldn't really mind staying bound to him but Stiles was strongly against that one.

"What are the chances?" Derek asked after a full minute of silence between them. This was a lot to take in.

"I don't know." Stiles reached down and picked up a twig. "There are no references to this, I doubt anybody has ever attempted something similar. It's more or less just my gut telling me that this is the right way."

"Can I think about it?" Derek asked. Stiles had said that Scott wanted to bring him home, with force if necessary, but he hoped that that was just Stiles exaggerating. Scott wouldn't really stuff him in the trunk, right?

"Of course."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"What do you want?" So far it had been all about Derek. Stiles had made it clear that it was his decision if they went through with this or not but this was affecting him as well. Stiles had lived in a werewolf pack for years but he hadn't become one himself. And there was his magic. There were werewolves who could work magic, Ben was coming to mind, but according to Stiles that wasn't the norm. The werewolves from Stiles' pack couldn't work magic.

"Peter offered me the bite, a long time ago." Stiles swirled the twig between his fingers. "I said no."

"Peter had been an alpha?"

"For a little while, didn't work out." Stiles shrugged and threw the twig away. "Scott offered as well, still said no."

"What changed your mind?" Derek asked but the answer was obvious.

"You."

"Won't you regret it?" Becoming a werewolf was permanent, there was no going back.

"I would regret not giving you this chance." Stiles looked at him openly, he was telling the truth. "Think about it."

Derek nodded but he knew that he couldn't make that decision now.

"There is one more thing," Stiles said and the way his posture changed Derek knew he wouldn't like what he was about to say. "But first I want you to know, you are stuck with me. I want to be with you one way or another and if you say no to bringing you over I will accept that and we'll make it work, I swear. And if you want to give it a shot, I'm happily going to be your beta. For as long as you want me. You'll have to kick me out, I'm not going to leave." He paused, giving Derek the chance to let the words sink in.

"But?" Because there was clearly a but coming.

"If we actually manage to bring you over, free and as an independent person, you need to learn to be that independent person."

"What do you mean?" Derek wasn't sure if he liked where this was heading.

"We have to separate," Stiles said but hurried to add: "Just for a little while. Peter will come with you, he's talking about South America."

"You want me to leave?" Derek's voice broke. "You just said ..." If this was the price, his decision was clear. The answer was no, he would not risk Stiles' life just to get sent away. He was happy right now. With Stiles. Why would he change that?

"I'll still be your beta, distance doesn't matter, you can be my alpha from South America." Stiles gave him a smile but it looked forced and his eyes were too bright. It hurt to see him like this.

"Why?" Derek didn't understand. He would at least have Peter at his side. Stiles would be all alone. Why would he do that to himself? Every werewolf needed his alpha, his pack, why would he send that away?

"You only know me. Remember when I said that I wanted more for you? I want you to go out there, I want you to meet new people, I want you to taste a life without me." He wiped the tears off his cheek with the heel of his hand. "I want you to know that you have options. And then, when you can actually make that decision, you can come back to me. If you still want."

"Why wouldn't I want to come back to you?" Derek didn't understand. "I don't need to leave to know that I want to come back."

For a long moment, Stiles didn't say a word. He was back to looking up to the stars.

"At first you didn't have to eat," he said out of the blue. "The first thing you ate was whatever you found in the fridge." Stiles fell quiet for a moment. "Chicken nuggets. It was a box of chicken nuggets. How did they taste?"

"Good?" Derek had no idea what Stiles' point was. Why were they talking about chicken nuggets now?

"It was the best thing you ever ate, right?"

"It was the first thing I ever ate." Derek felt the anger rise in him, what was with the stupid questions.

"If you would have never tasted anything else, chicken nuggets would be your favorite, it would be the best fucking thing in the universe."

"What's your point?"

"I'm the chicken nuggets!" Stiles gestured at himself. "But out there are Jane's diner and Edith's casserole. I want you to taste them all and if you have tasted enough and you still think chicken nuggets are the best thing you ever ate, then you can come back to me."

Derek thought about it. When Stiles put it like this, it did make sense. He still didn't like it. The thought of being out there, without Stiles, was scary. He was used to coming out of an in-between in a different place, he had been in the car with Peter in the middle of the day and then it was night and he was here with Stiles. But that was the point, no matter where he came out, it was always right next to Stiles. To him it made sense, it was his world. He knew that for other people the world didn't work that way but he had hoped that at least Stiles would stay a constant in his life.

"You don't have to decide anything tonight," Stiles broke the silence. "And you don't need to leave right after ... you know. I might need my alpha for a little while." Stiles even managed a little laugh.

Derek took a breath but the waves coming off Stiles were too mixed to decipher. He was worried and afraid and sad but there was also joy and hope and so much in between. Plus, Stiles was still smelling of his pack. Which wasn't really his any longer, was it?

The thoughts were swirling in Derek's head, too many to make sense of, maybe he should sleep over it. Sleep was doing lots of strange things to his mind but according to Stiles, they were all good.

Maybe they both needed some distraction.

"Stiles?" Derek asked and when Stiles turned to him, he leaned over to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Stiles' eyes went wide but he didn't shy back. "I'd love some chicken nuggets tonight."


	50. Chapter 50

"Would you now." Stiles grinned into the kiss.

"I like chicken nuggets." Derek kissed him again. "I like the taste of them. How they feel on my tongue."

"We could find out if the diner is still open," Stiles suggested.

Derek managed to hold it in for maybe a second but then he dissolved into laughter. He was clinging to Stiles, shaking with laughter and a moment later Stiles was done as well. They were holding on to each other to stay on the trunk but managed that for only so long. Eventually, they did land on the ground which just caused a new fit of laughter. Every time they came down to snickering, a glance at each other was enough to let the laughs bubble up again. Stiles was in real danger of peeing his pants, his sides were hurting but damn did it feel good.

"I needed that," Stiles said when he was finally back to words again. They came out between little chuckles, though.

Next to him, Derek nodded. The conversation hadn't been easy for him as well and he still had a difficult decision to make. For Stiles the hard part was over, he had his conversation with Peter which compared to the one with Derek had been a piece of cake and now he had talked to Derek as well. He had laid out his cards, now it was on Derek to make the next move.

The only thing left to do was to tell Scott that he was no longer Stiles' alpha. That would be fun but Stiles didn't want to think about that now.

"Give me a piggy back ride back?" Stiles asked. The way back wasn't long but he had been on his crutches all day.

"Sure." Derek stood and held out his hand to help him up.

"You just want me in bed as quickly as possible."

"That too." Derek crouched down so that Stiles could climb on his back and when Stiles had a secure grip on him Derek grabbed the crutches with one hand and put the other one under Stiles' butt for support and then he was jogging down the road as if Stiles wasn't weighing anything. Stupid werewolf strength, it was just unfair. But that would change soon. At least Stiles would get rid of that stupid cast in the process.

They made it back to the motel in no time and even managed to get into their room without running into anyone. And even if, Stiles was beyond caring.

"How do you want to do this?" Stiles asked, already half-way out of his shirt. When he could see again, he noticed Derek just standing by the door, eyes glued to Stiles naked torso. Looking down on himself Stiles remembered the marks Derek had left on him. The bruises were already turning yellow around the edges and the imprints of Derek's teeth were fading as well but it was still more than clear who he belonged to.

"Like what you see?" With his broken leg, there was no way that he could saunter over to Derek to tease him, he couldn't even get out of his jeans in an even remotely sexy way so Stiles just puffed out his chest to show off the marks still clearly visible on his pale skin.

Without taking his eyes off his chest Derek came over to him. Just in time to catch him because impatient as he was Stiles couldn't resist trying to get out of his jeans while he was still standing. Derek used the momentum to lay him down on the bed.

"Let me."

It took some wiggling but together they got Stiles out of his clothes and then he was lying there, bare and naked, while Derek was standing over him, still fully clothed.

"How do you want to do this?" Stiles repeated his question. When Derek didn't answer right away, he stretched and arched his back like a cat and then he was reaching for his cock that had started to fill under Derek's gaze.

"While you make up your mind, I'm going to have some fun," he decided and started to tug at his half-hard dick. The last times had been rough, Derek had gone all alpha on him and he wouldn't mind doing it like that again but on the other hand, it had been a long day and Stiles wouldn't mind something sweet and slow either. Either way, he kind of needed Derek with him in bed. Preferably without clothes. He told him that much.

At that, Derek did undress and then he stretched out next to Stiles. Their lips met in a deep kiss and Stiles let go of his cock to bury both hands in Derek's thick hair.

"What do you want?" Derek asked between kisses. "Tell me."

"Want to see you." He liked it when Derek took him from behind but tonight he would rather face him.

"I can do that." With one hand in Stiles' hair, Derek forced his head back, exposing his throat. For a second Stiles thought he would go rough again but instead, Derek kissed the soft skin and traced along his Adam's apple with the tip of his tongue. "Like this?" He asked and placed a kiss just behind Stiles' ear.

"Yeah." Stiles blinked and for a moment he focused on breathing. "Go slow, soft. I'd like that tonight."

Like the other night, Derek took the time to explore every inch of Stiles' body but this time he wasn't marking him. His touches were soft with little kisses and blunt fingertips, worshiping his body. Then lubed up fingers found their way to his entrance and Derek took his time there too. In the end, Stiles was begging him to go on with the program but Derek teased him just a little bit more. When he finally entered him, slowly inch by inch, Stiles almost cried in relief.

Derek fucked him in long, even thrusts. His cock dragging over Stiles' sweet spot every time, driving him mad.

"Touch me, please touch me," Stiles babbled but didn't reach for his own cock. He was fisting the sheets, willingly at Derek's mercy. When Derek finally closed his hand around his shaft, he stroked it in rhythm with his thrusts, slow and long. It felt like an eternity until Stiles finally spilled his release over Derek's hand. It still took several minutes of slow thrusting until Derek followed.

Then they were lying next to each other, both sweaty and boneless, but it felt good.

"Love you," Stiles mumbled, his eyes already dropping. Strong arms closed around him and Stiles fell asleep with his head on Derek's chest.

When he woke up in the morning, Derek was still there. He was still sleeping and Stiles took a moment to just watch him. He could get used to this. Waking up with Derek next to him. With knowing that he would be there.

Derek blinked his eyes open and a smile spread on his face when he noticed Stiles looking at him.

"Morning," Stiles greeted him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He didn't want to drive Derek away with his morning breath.

They stayed in bed for a little while longer but they could hide in here only for so long. They took turns in the shower and while Derek was in there, Stiles checked his phone. It was late in the morning, Scott's question about breakfast already two hours old. Just when Stiles was about to type his answer, that he'd just woken up, a new message came in. They had been to the diner but brought something for him as well, if he could bring it over?

A moment later Scott was standing in the door, take-out bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Sorry, I overslept." Stiles yawned.

"We shouldn't have watched the second movie." Scott grinned at him but when he came into the room, he wrinkled his nose. "Did you? Stiles!"

"What?" Stiles blinked at him innocently. Derek had sweet tortured him for what had felt like hours yesterday, Stiles was pretty sure he knew what the room was reeking of.

"That's a sick addiction you're developing there." Scott made a face but then he seemed to notice something. "Is there somebody in your shower?"

"Yes? Derek?" Stiles let the _duh_ be audible.

"Why is he showering? He'll be fresh and clean the next time you summon him anyway." Scott still didn't get it.

"Because he likes to shower and nobody wants to run around sticky for hours. Do I have to explain showers to you? Really, Scott?" Stiles yanked the bag out of his hand and had a look inside. He couldn't tell what was in that box but he could clearly tell that there was only one box in the bag. Just like Scott was only holding one cup of coffee.

"And you didn't bring breakfast for Derek." Stiles threw his head back. "Great, just fucking great."

"Why are you so pissed?" Scott had the nerve to ask. "Why would I buy food for ... for ..."

"For who?" Stiles prompted. "Or do you mean what?"

"He is a shade!" Scott almost yelled at him. "He doesn't need food or a shower or whatever. Stiles, what you're doing here ... that's not right. That's not healthy." Scott reached for him but Stiles stepped away from him. "Is this about the nightmares again? The Nogitsune? Stiles, please. We can help you, you don't have to fight this alone." Scott was pleading now with puppy dog eyes and everything. "Please come home. Dad is worried too."

"Don't bring Dad into this," Stiles told him. He was Scott's stepdad as well these days but that still didn't give him the right to play this card. "And you're wrong. You got it all wrong." Stiles was jabbing his finger at him and he was about to say more, things he probably would regret later, but then the bathroom door opened and Derek stepped out. He was fully dressed, wearing the same clothes he had been wearing last night.

"Why are you yelling?" He asked innocently but Stiles was pretty sure that he had heard every word.

Scott just looked at him and shook his head.

"Eat your breakfast and then we're leaving." He used his alpha voice, fully expecting Stiles to do whatever he was saying.

"You can leave but I'm staying," Stiles said and he would have crossed his arms over his chest if he had his hands free. "I'm not done here." He didn't know how Derek would decide in the end but for sure he was not going with Scott.

"Stiles, you're coming home with us," Scott ordered. "You need help."

"I ... I ... need what?" Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was Scott, he should be on his side. Stiles let out a bitter laugh.

"Stiles, please. Just come home." Scott deflated. "Please."

Derek stepped up behind him, standing close now.

"I'm staying," Stiles said firmly. "And just to make it official, you are no longer my alpha. I'm no longer part of your pack."

"What?" Scott shook his head as if he refused to believe what he was hearing. "And then what? You think that's going to be your alpha?" He pointed at Derek who was just silently standing there.

But unlike Scott, Derek was standing behind Stiles. He was trusting him to deal with this on his own, he was just there to support him. Scott had never done that. He had thrown himself between Stiles and whatever they had been facing. He had never trusted Stiles to make his own stand. Because he wasn't a werewolf, because he was just a weak human. Breakable. It didn't matter that Stiles had faced down whole packs with nothing but his weak body and his magic. Scott had never seen him that way. But Derek did.

"You should leave now," Stiles said, setting his jaw. "And take Isaac and Erica with you." He doubted that Peter had announced his decision yet, that would be the next bomb blowing up in Scott's face.

"I'm not leaving without you." Scott could be stubborn as well.

"Everything alright here?" Suddenly Theo was standing in the door behind Scott. "Stiles? Derek?"

"Scott was just about to leave," Stiles told him but he kept his eyes on Scott. He doubted that his friend would attack him, and he really hoped that they could still be friends once they had time to adjust to the new situation, but he wanted to keep him in his line of sight. Just to make sure.

"I am not leaving without you," Scott repeated. "Stiles, please. Think about it. Do you even hear what you're saying?"

"Should I call Johnny?" Theo asked. "If he's bothering you ..." He wanted to say more but at the same time Derek stepped back from Stiles, muttering something under his breath. He almost made it to the bathroom but before he could reach the door, he evaporated in shadows. Stiles had his back to him but he saw the swirling darkness out of the corner of his eye.

"What the fuck?" Theo asked.


	51. Chapter 51

Great, just fucking great. Stiles closed his eyes and let his head fall back for a second before he opened his eyes again to face Scott and Theo.

"That's not ..." Scott started. "I can explain ..." Seeking help he looked at Stiles and then back at Theo who was still gaping at the spot where Derek had been just a second ago.

"I'll handle this," Stiles took the lead. "Theo, I can explain," he repeated Scott's words but unlike with Scott, Theo was looking at him now as if he actually believed that Stiles could explain this.

"I thought he was a werewolf," Theo brought out.

"You told him? Stiles!"

"Scott, let me handle this, okay?" With one of his crutches, he poked Scott in the leg to get him going.

"Theo?" With a jerk of his head Stiles invited Theo to come in but for a long moment, he feared that the other man didn't trust him enough to be in the same room as him. But in the end, Scott was outside and Theo was standing just inside, his back to the now closed door.

"You didn't say that werewolves can do that." Theo made a vague gesture which reminded Stiles of the poof thing Erica had come up with.

"They can't." Stiles slumped down in one of the chairs and offered the other one to Theo.

"So Derek is not a werewolf?" Reluctantly Theo sat down.

"Derek is complicated." Stiles let out a sigh. "Peter is a werewolf, Scott and the others as well. Scott is our alpha." The last part was technically not true any longer but Stiles did not want to go into that right now. Even knowing full well that Scott was still outside and listening to every word Stiles was saying. This might give him false hope but fuck if Stiles cared.

"Your alpha?" Of course, Theo picked up at that, he was a smart guy.

"I might have twisted the truth a little," Stiles admitted. "I am part of a werewolf pack and Derek is the outsider they don't approve of."

"But you're not a werewolf." Theo tried to fit in the new information. "And Derek is. At least that's what you said."

"Not everybody in a pack has to be a wolf," Stiles explained. His hands were twitching and he reached for a pen that had been left on the table. Twisting it between his fingers he felt more ready to explain this to Theo. "I wasn't lying about that. Derek is a werewolf and I am not. It's just that my pack doesn't like Derek. You heard Scott, he wants me to come back."

"Okay." Theo nodded to himself. "But what's with the ..." He made the exploding gesture again. "Where is Derek now?"

"At the moment?" Stiles gave him a sad smile. "He doesn't exist."

Theo just sat there in stunned silence. He opened his mouth a few times but there were no words coming out.

"You know that I can work magic, well, that's what Derek is." Stiles didn't know how to explain this to somebody who knew even less about shades than Scott but he gave it a try. He didn't give Theo all the details but enough to get the picture. That Derek was something that was not supposed to be alive but somehow he was.

"Scott can't understand it," Stiles finished his little speech. "He just sees him as a shade and not as a person." He kind of hoped that Scott was still listening, maybe this helped to get it into his thick skull.

"I never noticed something about him." Theo sat back in his chair, this was a lot to take in.

"You did, you and Edith both," Stiles reminded him. "You noticed that he was different."

Theo thought about it, maybe going over the last days in his head.

"But he's not like that anymore," he finally said.

"He's learning."

"Wow." Theo made and for a long moment, he just sat there. "What are you going to do now? I mean with him and ... them?" He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

"Derek is almost real already, I want to bring him the last step across," Stiles revealed his plan. At least the basic idea of his plan, he didn't want Scott to know the details. Scott would put him in the trunk and bring him home right now if he knew that Stiles was not only considering becoming a werewolf, he was more than willing to take the bite.

Over the years there had been moments when Scott had asked but even before Stiles had known about his magic and that he might lose it if he became a werewolf, he had said no. He had given Scott the permission to turn him if there was no other choice but he had made it clear that he would rather not become a werewolf. And now he would do it just for the small chance that it would bring Derek across. Scott wouldn't understand that. It would just feed into his idea that Stiles had gone insane, that he had found an unhealthy coping mechanism and that he needed help.

"But Scott is against it?" Theo guessed.

"Scott doesn't know Derek, he can't see him as more than a shade." Stiles let out a sigh. "He thinks that I'm too attached to my own creation to realize that it's fake."

Theo didn't say anything to that, he probably had no idea what to say to a statement like this, and they sat there in silence for a long moment.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," Stiles said, the pen still twisting between his fingers.

"You simplified it." Theo gave him an out.

"That's one way to put it."

"Can you bring him back?"

"Sure." Stiles closed his eyes and reached into the shady place. By now it came naturally to him and he didn't really have to focus. He did, however, take a moment to visualize Derek in something else than what he'd worn before. Black jeans and a Henley in a dark red, it had been one of the only colors Stiles had been able to talk him into. When he opened his eyes again, Derek was standing in the middle of the room.

"Holy ..." Theo flinched back at his sudden appearance. "Derek?"

"Yes?" Derek asked with a searching glance at Stiles.

"I told Theo about you," Stiles explained. "He knows."

Derek took it with a nod like he took all of Stiles' decisions. One more reason to go separate ways for a while. But first, they had to actually make Derek real.

"Can I?" Theo asked, already half-way out of his chair. "I'm sorry but ..." He stepped around Derek, looking at him from every angle. Derek was clearly uncomfortable with the situation but before Stiles could tell Theo to stop looking at Derek like he was a freak, Theo stepped back with another mumbled sorry.

Derek was watching Theo with a wary eye but he relaxed when Theo stepped back.

"I can't believe it." Theo covered his mouth with his hand, clearly not comprehending what he was seeing just yet.

"Where's Scott?" Derek asked with a tilt of his head.

"I kicked him out to explain your disappearing stunt to Theo here." Stiles twisted in his chair and put one arm on the back to have a real look at Derek. "Is he still outside?"

"No." Derek got a distant look on his face. "But there are three people not far away."

Scott and the other two, Stiles guessed. Where Peter was he didn't know but knowing him, he was not far but out of sight to not get involved.

"Can you hear what they are saying?"

"They are leaving now," Derek said and then that look left his face, the others were probably out of earshot by now.

"You can hear what's going on outside?" Theo was at the window, he could probably see Scott and the others leaving.

"Werewolves have good ears," Stiles told him and he forced himself to not think about the sensory overload he would be facing as a newly turned werewolf. Among other things. He remembered all too well how he had taught Scott control. But back then they had no idea what they were dealing with. The others had it easier, Peter had been there to help them adjust. If everything went according to plan he would be there to help Stiles as well. And of course, Derek would be there. Having his alpha around would help.

"We don't want to cause trouble," Stiles said because he felt that that needed emphasizing. "And we would get out of your hair in no time but we kind of need that tree." He didn't need to elaborate, everybody in this town knew about the tree, at least on some level. "But if you want as gone, we'll leave."

Theo gave him a considering look before his gaze wandered over to Derek who was still standing in the middle of the room.

"Edith would kill me if I kicked you out," Theo said but he didn't sound as if he was actually considering kicking them out. "Besides, she sent me over to tell you and Derek to come over for dinner tonight. And to bring Peter."

Stiles noticed that the others were not invited but he hoped that they were all gone by then anyway.

"Looking forward to it," Stiles accepted the invitation and judging by the look on Derek's face he was looking forward to it as well. He was a sucker for Edith's home cooked food, a fact that wasn't lost on Edith and she always made sure to make something she knew Derek would like. Which was basically everything. So far she hadn't brought anything on the table Derek didn't like. And he always took seconds.

"I should get going, then." Theo stretched. "Take care, boys."

"Thanks, you know, for everything," Stiles hurried to say before he left.

"And in case Scott keeps giving you trouble, I can always give Johnny a call," Theo reminded them and then he was gone.

"I like him," Derek said and finally moved from the spot he had appeared in. Stiles couldn't say why but it had been bugging him that Derek hadn't moved. It felt too much like a fall-back into the early days where Derek had just been standing around until Stiles gave him an order to do something.

Now he came over and took the second chair.

"What happened with Scott after I was gone?"

"Nothing really." That was still something they had to take care of. "Guess I have to talk to him later." Stiles was not looking forward to it. He would rather pack his things and just leave but they needed to stay here so it was Scott who had to leave. Not an easy task.

"Are you hungry?" Stiles remembered the breakfast Scott had brought him. "We can share the coffee but I'm not hungry, you can have it if you want."

Derek got the box out of the bag to find out what was in there while Stiles reached for the cup of coffee. He needed some caffeine.

There were pancakes in the box. Scott had most likely asked for Stiles' usual and Stiles would bet money on Jane offering something for Derek as well. And Scott had said no. Figured.

Stiles pushed the cup over to Derek to let him have some as well. He wasn't eating either, pancakes were one of the few things Derek wasn't particularly fond of.

"What are we going to do now?" Derek asked but before Stiles could come up with an answer, his phone started to ring.

"My dad." Stiles saw the name on the display and under his breath, he cussed out Scott for playing dirty. But when he answered, he didn't let that show in his voice. "Hey, dad."

"Hey," his dad greeted him. "Haven't heard from you in a while."

Which wasn't unusual. Okay, maybe Stiles had missed their weekly call once or twice but that was not unusual either. As long as he stayed in regular contact with Scott his father knew that he was fine. And yeah, Stiles had missed some of those calls as well.

"Sorry, there's a lot going on right now." Which wasn't even a lie.

"Yeah, Scott told me," his father said and even over the phone Stiles could tell that he was getting more comfortable wherever he was sitting.

"What else did he tell you?" Stiles dared to ask with a glance at Derek.

"That you're not doing so well," came the honest answer. There had been a time when they hadn't been honest with each other. When Stiles had been lying to him about what he was up to and his dad hadn't told him about the empty bottles he was hiding. They were both better with that now.

"I'm fine," Stiles said mostly out of reflex. Then he took a deep breath. He might be losing Scott but he was not going to lose his dad. "Something happened. Well, more like a someone."


	52. Chapter 52

Once he was sure that the others were fast asleep, Peter followed Stiles out of town. He found the other man sitting on a fallen tree, reeking of anxiousness.

"Did somebody follow you?" Stiles asked despite the fact that he could grant them some privacy not matter if somebody had followed them or not.

"We are alone," Peter assured him and sat down next to him.

"I figured it out," Stiles started so Peter let him go first. Stiles might burst if he couldn't share what he had figured out. Once he was done explaining, Peter just sat there too stunned to even think about his own issues.

"You want him to turn you?" Peter asked. He had offered Stiles the bite almost a decade ago and he still remembered the look on Stiles' face.

Back then Stiles had been much younger, just a teenager but already with a bright head on his shoulders. In hindsight, Peter was glad that he had rejected him but on the other hand, they would have been an even better team with Stiles being a werewolf. They most likely wouldn't have spent years on the road, helping others, though. As a teenager, Stiles had been full of rage. If he had accepted the bite back then, with Peter still a psychopath spinning out of control, they would have left a trail of bodies all over the country. They were both better now.

However, Stiles had never hinted that he wanted to become a werewolf. Quite the opposite. And now he was willing to take the bite, to throw away his magic for the off chance that it would be enough to make Derek real.

Peter didn't understand magic as Stiles did but he knew the basics. He knew about energy and balance and over the last few days, he had learned a lot more. Stiles' contacts were mostly witches who stayed in the light, maybe a hint of gray here and there but they stayed on the right side, never crossing the line. Most of them had been disgusted by the mere thought of creating life the way Stiles had intended to. One had even called Scott, Stiles' alpha, to stop him from doing something stupid.

Peter's contacts lived in the gray. Some were openly practicing black magic and most of them had blood on their hands. The information he had gotten from them were quite different from what Stiles had gotten. Not that Stiles hadn't known from the very beginning where this was heading.

But somehow Stiles had managed to do the first step without paying the price. Peter was still not convinced that he had actually done it, that Derek was alive enough for it to count, but Stiles was convinced. The price was still high, though, even if they didn't have to kill somebody for Derek's benefit.

They talked about this for over an hour and in the end, Peter had to admit that it was worth a shot.

If Derek wanted to try it. This was Derek's decision, Stiles made that very clear. Stiles had made up his mind, he was willing to risk it, but only if Derek was in as well. He was also prepared to leave everything as it was and make it work like that.

"Fair enough," Peter said.

Biting Stiles was nothing they could do without Derek playing an active role in it so going behind his back was out of question. Of course, Stiles could always order him to do it, he could force him if he really wanted to but it was clear that that was not an option so Peter didn't even bother with bringing it up.

"I'll need your help, afterward," Stiles said quietly.

"I'm here," Peter promised. He had been there for the others, for Boyd and Erica and Isaac when they had become his betas. Not for Scott, though, and sometimes he still felt a pang of guilt over that. Scott had still taken him in when he had needed an alpha and a pack but seeing him now, seeing how Scott treated his best friend, how he dismissed Stiles' feelings and how he thought that he knew better what was good for him than Stiles himself? The way Scott completely refused to even look at Derek? No, Peter didn't feel a hint of remorse for leaving Scott's pack.

"And I thought you would just leave me in the woods to fend for myself." Stiles gave him a smile.

"Tried that, didn't work out." Peter stretched out his legs. "Besides, I like you better than Scott."

"That's a low bar. At the moment Scott is not a likable person, like, I don't like him at all right now and that says something because everybody likes Scott. He's very likable." Stiles nodded to make his point. "But that's not what I meant. I mean after after." He gestured at his neck.

What Stiles meant was that Peter should take Derek and leave.

"I know he's not your alpha but you're the only one I can ask," Stiles said, the words rushing out of his mouth too quickly. "We have to separate, at least for a little while, he needs to become independent. Without me hovering in the background. You're probably the worst choice for this, you're a bad role model and he'll pick up bad habits from you like murder and drinking wine for two-hundred dollars a bottle but …" Stiles made a helpless gesture.

"He is my alpha," Peter blurted out into the lull of Stiles' rant.

"He's your what?"

"Derek is my alpha." It was the first time he had said it out loud and it felt good. Right.

"That's what you wanted to tell me, am I right?" Stiles face lit up with that realization.

"I asked him earlier today." Peter nodded. It was almost eery how well his decision fit in with Stiles' plan. As Derek's beta it would be natural for him stay close to his alpha.

They discussed it for a moment longer but then Peter left so that Stiles could talk to Derek.

In the morning, Peter joined the others when they were heading out for breakfast. Stiles and Derek were not coming with them. Apparently, Stiles was still sleeping and Scott didn't mention Derek when he informed them about Stiles' whereabouts. Peter had to bite his tongue to not call him out on it. Stiles had summoned Derek after Peter had left him last night, he was pretty sure that both of them were sleeping in Stiles' bed right now.

Over breakfast, they were talking about Stiles, of course, and Derek came up as well but the others were mostly worried about Stiles. Scott asked Peter about his opinion but Peter doubted that he would listen to him.

Isaac was more on their side. He was questioning what Scott was saying about Derek, he wanted to get to know the shade before he decided that he was just something Stiles had gotten attached to in lack of somebody real he could turn to. Erica was in between and mostly kept out of that discussion.

When they had finished their meal, Scott went to the counter to order something for Stiles as well. Peter did hear him declining Jane's offer to make something for Derek as well and he saw the one cup of coffee Scott got.

"Nothing for Derek?" He asked which got him a look from Scott.

"Not you too," Scott muttered and paid for the food. Then he stomped out of the diner followed by Isaac and Erica. Peter shook his head and ordered two sandwiches and two coffees to go, he was pretty sure they would come in handy soon. Jane made Derek's favorite and another one for Stiles.

"That his friends?" She asked while they waited for the food.

"Yes," Peter confirmed, not sure if the statement was still true. Stiles had said that he hoped Scott would still be his friend even if he wasn't his alpha any longer but Peter didn't have much hope for that if Scott really showed up at Stiles' door with breakfast for only one person. "I think they're leaving today."

Jane commented that with a grim nod.

Back at the motel, it looked as if Peter had missed the show. Scott was standing on the porch, sulking but a little too close to Stiles' room to not be eavesdropping. Isaac and Erica were in their room but they were watching what was going on outside through the window.

Peter unlocked his door and put the take-out bag and the tray with the cups of coffee on the table and when he looked outside again it was just in time to see Scott and the others hurrying away. Scott was on his phone and talking animatedly.

Instead of going over to Stiles' room, Peter got his phone out and shot him a message, informing him that he had breakfast for both of them. Stiles didn't reply immediately so Peter got his laptop out. At least he could get some work done.

At one point he should tell Scott about his decision but first Peter wanted to know if Stiles had told him his yet. It looked like it but Peter didn't want to jump to assumptions. When there was a knock at his door he thought it would be Stiles, maybe Scott, but when he opened the door, he found Isaac standing there.

"Can I come in?" He asked, hands in his pocket and a sheepish look on his face.

Peter stepped aside to let him in, curious about what was bringing him here.

"Stiles said that he wants to leave." Isaac didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"I know."

"Figured." Isaac didn't seem surprised at all. "Are you leaving as well?"

Peter didn't answer that but it looked as if that was answer enough for Isaac.

"Derek," Isaac said instead. "Scott thinks he's just a very good shade and that Stiles has some wires crossed here."

"I got that feeling," Peter agreed. "Why are you here?"

"What do you think of Derek?" Isaac asked directly. "He is named after your dead nephew after all."

"He is." It had taken some getting used to but now it was kind of a comforting thought. Like naming a child after a beloved relative. Just that a child wouldn't claim the spot of the dead person. Actually, Peter was in the middle of getting some things rolling. If it went according to plan, Derek's identity would be restored and ready by the time he was a real boy. If they actually needed it which was a big if for many reasons.

"Stiles is going to do something stupid, isn't he?" Isaac once again proved that there wasn't much that he didn't notice. "Scott isn't sure what he's up to but he is convinced it's bad."

"Stiles is going to make Derek permanent," Peter confirmed what everybody already knew. Stiles had told them but he had left out the details. Not that he'd known the details yesterday.

"That's not the good kind of magic, isn't it?"

"It's not as dark as Scott thinks," Peter said. "But it is risky."

"He could die."

"Yes."

"And you're okay with that?"

"How often could you have died in the last month alone?" Peter countered. Beacon Hills had calmed down over the years but the Nemeton was still a beacon and it was still hurt and lashing out. There were all kinds of strange people coming to Beacon Hill and the Hale pack had always been there to keep an eye on them. At least there was still somebody with that name in Beacon Hill, living in the Hale house on Hale property. Peter had gifted the house to the pack which he had thought would be his pack until the end. Looked like he had been wrong about that but Malia was still there.

Isaac shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

"We all have faced down danger, we all have followed risky plans," Peter reminded him. "Stiles is taking a well-calculated risk and the risk of dying is way smaller than what we have thought it would be just days ago. If he wants to take this risk, it's his decision."

"And then he wants Derek to be his alpha? Why?"

"Have you seen them together?"

They had looked but they hadn't seen. The way Derek was looking at Stiles, they thought it was how every shade looked at Stiles, he was the center of their universe after all, but the way Derek was looking at him was completely different. And Stiles looked back at him the same way. How could they not see that?

"So you and Stiles are leaving to follow an alpha who isn't even real," Isaac summed it up.

"We're working on the real part," was the only thing Peter could say to that. "Does Scott know?"

"I haven't told him." Isaac shook his head. "And I won't."

Isaac left with that but at least Peter had the feeling that he still had a friend in the younger werewolf.

Once he was alone again, Peter checked his phone to see if Stiles had answered his message.

 _Not hungry but bring the coffee_


	53. Chapter 53

Stiles was on the phone with his father and that was a conversation Derek really didn't want to hear. He made sure to catch Stiles' eye and to motion towards the door to indicate that he would be outside.

When he stepped out on the porch, there was nobody else in sight and Derek took a breath in relief. He had feared that Scott or one of the other two would corner him but they weren't here at the moment so he took the chance to slip behind the building. Here he had stacked the wood for Edith, a memory that made him smile, but it still felt too close. If somebody was looking for him, they would easily find him here. So Derek put his hands in his pockets and started walking. There was a little path leading to a few backyards, this was most likely the shortcut to visit the neighbors, but soon Derek was out in the open field. The woods weren't far, it would be easy to just slip between the trees and go deeper, maybe even visit the Nemeton again. But from here it was miles away and Derek didn't want to worry Stiles by disappearing on him. So Derek just stepped into the woods far enough so he wouldn't be easily spotted from the motel and just walked along the edge for a little while.

Their conversation from last night was still fresh in his mind. All the ways things could go wrong and even if they went right, Stiles wanted him to leave afterward. So his initial impulse was to say no. Derek was fine just the way he was, he didn't need to become real, whatever that meant.

However, not even an hour ago Theo had seen an in-between, something he shouldn't have seen. They had been lucky that it had been Theo and not somebody else. It could have happened in the middle of the mall when he'd been shopping with Peter. Plus, Stiles was exhausting his magic just to keep him around. Derek didn't like that.

Stiles also seemed to have a problem with the fact that he could order Derek to do whatever he wanted him to do. He hadn't used that power lately but the fact alone that he could seemed to bug him. Derek couldn't see what the fuss was about, he was looking for Stiles' advice anyway.

Then there was the fact that his existence depended on Stiles. If Stiles died or otherwise wasn't able to summon him any longer, Derek would be dead. He guessed that it would be just one long in-between that never ended and that didn't sound too bad. But it also was something that didn't sit right with Stiles.

Derek stopped with a sigh. This was getting him nowhere. He leaned his back against the trunk of the nearest tree and let his head fall back to look up. There were patches of sky visible between the leaves but it was overcast today and all Derek saw was gray.

Stiles had made it clear that it was Derek's decision and that he was fine either way. One way would put everything at risk, maybe killing one of them or even both. And if Stiles would be able to work his magic as a werewolf was anybody's guess.

And he was thinking about Stiles again and how he would be affected. Derek let his head thump against the rough bark.

 _What do I want?_ Derek asked himself but had no answer to that. He had always followed Stiles' advice.

Derek pushed himself off the tree and put his hands back in his pockets. And paused. Derek looked down on himself. He hadn't paid much attention to his clothes but now he noticed that he wasn't wearing the outfit he had picked out the other day. But these were also things he had chosen for himself. Stiles had remembered and he had put in the afford to come up with something new and not just the same old stuff again. And back at the motel was still the bag with the things Peter had bought for him. Things Derek had picked for himself.

And food. Stiles had used food to explain to him why he wanted him to leave. Derek liked food. He had his favorites and things he didn't like and he was looking forward to trying out more. He wanted to try out more. And not just food.

Derek wasn't sure what Stiles meant when he said he wanted more for Derek but he had the feeling that this was part of it.

Today Derek had woken up in bed with Stiles and that had been nice, he would like to do that again but it was a rare occasion, usually, there was an in-between over night. One second he was sleeping with Stiles in his arms and the next he was standing in the middle of the room. He had experienced waking up with Stiles and getting out of bed on his own only a few times so far but he liked those mornings. The memory of each one was something precious he liked to think of now and then.

Stiles wanted him to take a leap of faith and trust him that there was so much more waiting for him out there even if he couldn't even imagine it at his point. Derek remembered clearly the night he had used the bathroom for the first time and how his stomach had grumbled and how he had no clue what that even meant. He had just followed his instincts, searching for whatever was eatable in their room to satisfy his stomach. And Stiles was right, those chicken nuggets had been the best thing he had eaten in his life and he would still be happy with just chicken nuggets every day. At that point, he hadn't been able to picture something better. But now he knew that there were much better things out there. It was still morning and he was already looking forward to whatever Edith had in mind for dinner.

So maybe he should trust Stiles on this, maybe he should take the leap.

Still deep in thoughts Derek turned around and started walking again, he didn't want to stay gone for too long.

When he stepped out of the woods, he saw someone coming for him. Scott. Of course, it was Scott.

"You." Scott pointed a finger at him. "I don't know what you're up to but you won't take him away."

Derek just raised his eyebrow at him and waited until Scott had come up to him.

"I thought I'm just a shade," Derek said. "How can I be up to something?"

That made Scott splutter, he hadn't expected that comeback.

"I don't know what you are, if you're a shade or something else, but you're not taking away my best friend." Scott was right in his face now.

"That's Stiles decision to make," Derek told him. They all had their decisions to make but Peter and Stiles were already set on theirs. They had been before they had even told Derek about the one he had to make.

"Leave him alone." Suddenly Scott's eyes were glowing red and his face shifted. "He is mine."

That was the alpha speaking, Derek got that. He knew that feeling, that he wanted Stiles to be his but at the same time knowing that Stiles belonged to someone else. It wasn't something rational. Derek knew that Stiles didn't belong to either of them, that he chose his alpha and that he was free to change his mind whenever he wanted but to the wolf part of them that didn't matter. To Scott, Derek was a rival who was trying to take over his pack.

When Derek locked eyes with him, they were equally red and he felt his face shift. His clawed hands were hanging loosely at his sides but he was ready to defend himself if necessary.

"He's mine," Scott growled and launched for Derek. Derek jumped back, blocking Scott's attack with his arm.

"I don't want to fight you," Derek said and blocked the next blow.

"Too bad, I want to fight you." Scott spat the words out, his snout twitching and then he was on him again. Derek didn't hold back any longer. He was fighting back. They were both alphas but Scott was fueled by his rage. His attack didn't even make sense, even if he managed to defeat Derek he would be back at Stiles' side rather sooner than later. Derek was pretty sure that Scott could kill him and it wouldn't change a thing. However, he would not just stand there and let Scott kill him. So Derek fought back.

He lost some ground but he was holding up pretty well. They were both bloody, long gashes on their arms and torsos and on Derek's face where Scott at broken through his defense but that had already stopped bleeding.

"Stop!" Somebody yelled. There were people running towards them but Derek kept his eyes on Scott.

"Goddammit, Scott!" That was Stiles but there were other voices yelling at them. Derek didn't let himself get distracted but Scott made the mistake to look over.

Without even thinking Derek used the moment and slashed his throat.

"Derek, stop!" Stiles yelled when Derek raised his claws again. He didn't want to kill Scott, he just wanted to keep him down, but suddenly he wasn't able to do anything. He stopped. His hands fell to his sides and he just stood there and watched Scott scrambling to his feet.

Without hesitation Scott rammed his claws into Derek's torso, right under his rib-cage, aiming upward. Derek could feel the claws tearing through his flesh, through his lungs and heart.

"Derek!" Stiles yelled while Derek tasted blood in the back of his throat. He wanted to say something but suddenly his mouth was full of blood.

With a sickening noise Scott got his claws free and without that support, Derek just fell to his knees. It didn't even hurt. Derek looked down and pressed his hands where the blood was gushing out of him. Weird. Above him Scott made a triumphant noise, maybe he was trying to yell but his throat was too mangled for that, either way, Derek saw the claws coming for him. He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was back in their room.

His hands flew to where the wound had been a second ago but he only found his clothes whole and dry and what felt like unbroken skin underneath. Even the taste of blood was gone.

"What happened?" He asked and only now he had a look around to confirm that he was alone with Stiles. The other man was sitting at the table, his crutches leaning next to him and he looked tired. He had blood on his clothes and hands and there were even sprinkles on his face.

"You died," Stiles said with a haunted look on his face. "I saw you dying."

"I'm not dead." Derek stepped over to him but slowly, he had the feeling that Stiles would be easily spooked right now.

"I know." Stiles nodded. "But earlier? I had forgotten about it. I didn't think. I told you to stop and you stopped. You just stood just there and let Scott ..." His voice broke and he was looking with hollow eyes into the distance. "I should have gotten you out of there earlier."

"It's okay," Derek said. He reached out for Stiles, slowly to give him the chance to tell him to stop but when he didn't, he placed his hand on his shoulder. A second later Stiles was hugging his middle. He was shaking and dry sobs were escaping his mouth.

"I'm okay," Derek told him and held him close. "I wasn't trying to kill him." Derek empathized. He hadn't tried to kill Stiles' best friend, he wanted Stiles to know that.

"You were defending yourself, I know." Stiles nodded into his chest.

"Where's Scott?" Derek strained his ears but there was nobody close by.

"In his room, you did a number on him." Stiles looked up at him and with the heel of his hand, he wiped his eyes. "Maybe if he has to suffer from injuries caused by an alpha he'll rethink his opinion on you." He gave him a weak smile.

"But he's going to be okay?" Scott would live, that much was clear but Derek didn't want to do permanently harm him.

"Yeah, he's survived much worse."

"That's good."

They were hugging for a moment longer but then Stiles peeled himself off Derek.

"I should be flattered," Stiles said and cleared his throat to get rid of the last traces his tears. "Two alphas were fighting over me."

"Who won?" Derek knew that winning or losing the fight didn't matter, it was Stiles' choice.

"You. Always you." Stiles craned his neck for a quick kiss. "They are leaving in the morning."

That was new.

"How did that happen?"


	54. Chapter 54

By the time Stiles got off the phone with his dad, Derek wasn't back but Stiles didn't worry too much. Derek had quite some stuff to think about and if he needed some time and space, Stiles could give him that. However, there was Peter offering coffee so he shot him a message to bring that over. He could keep the food, though, Stiles was not in the mood for that. There were still cold and soggy pancakes on the table and just looking at those made him sick. Stiles closed the box and threw the whole thing in the trash.

A minute later Peter was at his door and the coffee he was bringing was even still lukewarm.

"Where's Derek?" Peter had a look around but he must know that Derek wasn't around.

"Went outside." Stiles shrugged. "I think he wanted to give me some privacy to talk to Dad. Can you believe that Scott brought my dad into this?" Stiles took an angry gulp from his cup.

"What did he say?"

"He was worried but in the end, he told me to do what I think is best." Stiles put the half-empty cup down. "He's happy that I found somebody."

"Did you tell him about your plan?"

"No." Stiles shook his head. "At the moment I'm not even sure if Derek wants to give it a shot."

He had told his dad that there was a problem but that he was about to fix it and that it wasn't more dangerous than his usual jobs. It was the truth. Of course, Scott had told him about the black magic and it took some convincing but eventually, Stiles promised to not cross any lines he shouldn't be crossing which seemed to put his dad at ease. At least a little bit. He was still worried and Stiles had to promise to call again soon.

"Have you talked to Scott?" Stiles asked.

"Not yet." Peter stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair. "Scott's not going to be happy." He didn't sound particularly upset about that.

"Yeah." Stiles took another mouthful of coffee.

With Peter, it had always been easy. They could sit like this for hours, both of them lost in their own thoughts, without the silence becoming weird or uncomfortable. Other times they had spent hours debating whatever, stuff regarding a job they had been working on or just something trivial like a movie they had different opinions on. Stiles had liked it and if he was honest, he had missed it since he and Peter had separated.

"We're going to be a pack," Stiles stated just to test the feeling of those words.

Peter just gave him a look.

"You sound as if someone is having a baby," he said which made Stiles laugh. But then Peter sat up straight, suddenly on high alert.

"That's Scott." And with that he bolted out of the door, leaving human little Stiles to slowly come after him. With his stupid crutches, he was even slower than usual. Isaac and Erica ran past him and Stiles used some magic to give himself a boost to at least somewhat keep up with them. Out on the field, he saw two figures and even from the distance it was clear who they were. And they were fighting.

"Goddammit, Scott!" Stiles yelled because of course it had been his idiot friend who had started the fight, he just knew it.

Scott looked over to them, just for a second, but it was enough for Derek to land a hit. There was blood and Scott went down. It looked a lot like Derek had just ripped out his throat. Scott was on the ground, Stiles couldn't tell if he was even alive, and Derek was standing over him, hand raised for the final blow.

"Derek, stop!" Stiles yelled without even thinking. Only when Derek's hands dropped to his sides and he was just standing there, not even in a position to defend himself, Stiles realized that this had been a command Derek had to follow.

Suddenly, Scott was back on his feet, his whole hand buried in Derek's torso.

"No!" Stiles yelled but it was lost in other voices, screaming and yelling for them to stop fighting but nobody was close enough to stop Scott. Stiles just stood there and watched the blood coming out of Derek's mouth.

Derek dropped to his knees, looking down on his own bloody hands where he was trying to keep the blood in but it was just gushing out between his fingers. He had a look of clear disbelief on his face which would haunt Stiles' dreams for months.

Then time seemed to pick up speed again and Stiles' brain finally caught up with what was happening here. He could get Derek out of this, it was so easy, he cursed at himself that he hadn't thought about it sooner. Stiles dropped one crutch and flicked his wrist.

Derek evaporated into shadows. And just in time. Scott's claws went through the shadows, swirling them up even more but Derek was gone.

For a moment Scott stared at the spot where Derek had been kneeling just a second ago but then he dropped to his knees as well, a broken cry on his lips.

Stiles struggled to get his crutches under him again but he was in no hurry any longer. The others were at Scott's side already and since Derek's blow hadn't killed him immediately, Stiles was pretty sure that Scott would heal. Slower than usual, Derek was an alpha after all, just ask Peter, but he would be fine.

However, they were in an open field, who knew who was watching them.

"Get him back inside!" Stiles yelled and when Isaac and Erica picked up Scott, he turned on his heel and started to walk back to the motel. The others were still faster than him but they didn't run to not jostle Scott around even more. If he was even conscious, Stiles couldn't tell but they could sort this out once they were back in a room and not out here for everybody to see. The last thing Stiles wanted was another visit from the police.

They brought Scott back to his room.

Peter put towels on the bed so that the blood wouldn't ruin it completely before they laid him down. Edith would kill them if they ruined another room with their bloodshed.

"Why is he still bleeding?" Erica asked, already busy getting Scott out of his shirt. What was left of it. Up close Stiles could tell that Derek had done a number on him. There were deep gashes on his chest and arms and one nasty looking one on his abdomen. But the worst was his throat. It was in shreds. Stiles didn't know how Scott was still breathing. He was doing that with a wet whistle each time and when he coughed he breathed out a spray of blood.

"Isaac, there is a first aid kit in my bag, get it." Stiles fell into action. He directed Erica to get more wet towels, they had to wash off the blood to actually see the damage, and Peter slipped out of the room to get his own kit as well. Just likes Stiles' his was packed with more than just band-aids.

"We have to stop the bleeding," Stiles told them while he was searching for thread and needle in his kit. Once Scott was in no danger of bleeding out any longer, they could sit back and wait it out. He would heal on his own, given time.

Stiles sewed the biggest gashes together with crude stitches, there wouldn't be a scar later anyway, this was just about keeping the flesh together. The worst was the throat but Stiles did his best to bring back together what belonged together. Scott didn't stay out of it the whole time because of course he didn't and it took all three werewolves to hold him down and still enough for Stiles to finish his work.

"There, that should do it." Stiles sat back and looked at his handiwork. Scott had calmed down but he was still wolfed out and breathing heavily. The whistling was gone, that was a good sign, right?

Reluctantly the others let go of their alpha and slowly Scott's face melted back to his human form.

Stiles wiped his bloody hands on his jeans. His hands had been steady while he'd worked on Scott but now they were shaking.

In front of him was Scott, lying on the bed in his own blood, but with his inner eye, Stiles only saw Derek. The look of surprise on his face. The blood. And it had been Stiles' fault. If he hadn't given Derek the order to stop ...

"He needs rest now," Peter decided and then he was next to Stiles, not touching but close enough to catch him if he fell, while behind him Erica and Isaac were cleaning up.

"You okay?" Peter asked in a low voice.

"Yeah," Stiles made but still couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

Scott was awake but he made no attempt to move which was probably for the better. Stiles stepped over to him.

"You should feel better by morning," he told him. "But anyway, I want you gone before noon. You are not my alpha any longer, I'm not part of your pack. I just want you gone. I'm done with you. You hear me? Go and don't you dare coming back."

He caught the shocked expressions on Isaac's and Erica's faces but Stiles didn't stay long enough for them to say anything. He grabbed his first aid kit, it was a struggle to keep that and the crutch in one hand but he managed, and then he was out of the door.

Back in his room he just sat there for a long moment. He should bring Derek back to make sure that he was okay but he couldn't bring himself to do so. What if he was not okay? What if he was mad at Stiles for stopping him? For not getting him out of there sooner? For letting Scott kill him?

Stiles closed his eyes but that only brought back the memory more vividly.

"Stiles?" That was Peter at his door. "Can I come in?"

Peter didn't wait for his answer and opened the door but he stood in the doorway until Stiles told him to come in. He had a bottle in hand.

"It's not even five o'clock," Stiles said with a weak smile.

"If today doesn't call for a drink I don't know what does." Peter set the bottle on the table.

He had a point there. They didn't have glasses so Stiles took a swig right from the bottle. It burned its way down his throat and filled his belly with warmth. He took another one before he handed the bottle back to Peter. The alcohol would have no effect on the werewolf but he took a mouthful as well if for nothing else than to keep Stiles company.

"Did Scott say anything?" Stiles dared to ask after his third sip. He should keep it at that, getting drunk seemed like a very bad idea, so he put the cap back on. Peter gave him a look but didn't comment on it.

"He wanted to come over, talk to you. Erica had a word with him." Peter let out a dry chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't hear it. That woman has quite a voice when she's mad. She told him how much he fucked up when he attacked Derek."

"She's right," Stiles agreed. Seeing Derek like that ... he couldn't forgive that. He was done with polite. He didn't want Scott as a friend any longer, he just wanted him gone.

"They are leaving in the morning," Peter said.

"Without you?"

"Without me."

Stiles didn't ask how that went down. Isaac already knew, Peter had told him that much, but it must have been a shock for Scott and Erica. Once word got out they would get calls from the rest of the pack, Stiles was sure of that and he kind of dreaded it. Where should he even start to explain this?

"Have you checked on Derek yet?" Peter pulled him out of his thoughts. The alcohol was working, Stiles felt warm and relaxed and his hands had almost stopped shaking. But he was still not ready to face Derek. The what-ifs were still floating in his mind.

"Not yet."

"He's fine," Peter assured him. "Just picture him like you always do."

That was the problem. Stiles couldn't picture him like anything but on his knees with blood coming out between his fingers pressed to his body. Or the moment when Scott had sunken his claws into him. That look of disbelief on his face. And he hadn't even tried to defend himself.

 _Hasn't been allowed to defend himself_ , Stiles corrected in his mind.

"I can't," Stiles said quietly, his eyes burning. "I can only see him like ..." He made a helpless gesture.

"Don't think about it, just call him." Peter offered him the bottle again and grimly Stiles unscrewed the cap one last time. He took a big mouthful, it burned so bad it made his eyes water, but then he pushed the bottle back at Peter to take it with him when he left.

Alone again Stiles took a breath. Then he closed his eyes and reached into the shady place.


	55. Chapter 55

Stiles told Derek how it happened that Scott and the others would leave in the morning. He tried to keep up the facade but when he'd finished and they were just sitting there in silence, the guilt crept up on him again.

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have stopped you. I should have gotten you out sooner. I ... I ..."

"Don't." Derek reached over and took Stiles' hand in his. Derek's hands were clean, there was no trace of blood on them, no evidence that he had fought for his life not long ago. Stiles' hand, however, was coated with blood. It was under his nails and cracking in every wrinkle, it made Stiles sick.

"I need a shower." He jumped to his feet, forgetting that he couldn't just walk around with his stupid cast and then he would have cracked his head open on the edge of the table if it hadn't been for Derek who caught him with ease. Like he always did. Stiles could always count on Derek to catch him. But the one time Derek had needed him, Stiles hadn't been there to catch him. Instead, he had made it even worse for him.

"I'm sorry," Stiles said again and then he hurried to get into the bathroom. He breathed easier once he had a closed door between himself and Derek but the shaking was back. And not just his hands, his whole body was shaking now.

Gray crept in on the edges of his visual field, tunneling his view. And when had he started the shower? It took him a moment to realize that the sound he was hearing was not the shower but his own blood rushing in his ears.

Stiles didn't have a panic attack in quite a while and it took him surprisingly long to realize what was happening here. Maybe it was the alcohol, it made him slow.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice pierced through the fog in his mind. "Your heart is racing, are you okay?"

He wanted to say that he was fine but he couldn't bring out the words. The picture of Derek dying was clear in his head but at the same time an unscratched Derek knelt down next to him, trying to figure out what was going on. Suddenly Stiles didn't even know what was real any longer. Was Derek dead or alive? What was the dream and what was reality? On some level, he knew that both were true and that Derek hadn't really died but that didn't help with the rising panic.

Somehow he ended up on the bathroom floor. He still didn't know if what was real and what wasn't, though. He raised his trembling hand and started to count his still blood coated fingers. They added up to the right amount but Stiles counted them again, just to make sure.

"One, two, ..." He touched every finger to make sure that it was real. Across from him, Derek counted with him. But he seemed to notice that Stiles was more there again.

"Stiles?" He asked gently and covered the fingers Stiles was counting with his own. "It's okay."

Stiles let his hand drop. He could breathe again and his head was clearer now. And he still needed a shower.

"How long?" He swallowed a few times to get rid of the dry feeling in his throat.

"Not long." Derek still kept a wary eye on him but seemed satisfied with what he was seeing. "You scared me."

"Sorry." Stiles scooted up a bit so that he would sit more comfortably with his back to the wall. "Just a panic attack, I get those sometimes."

"I don't like it."

"Me neither."

"You're still all bloody," Derek commented and wrinkled his nose. "You're reeking of blood."

And other werewolves, Stiles guessed.

"I should probably do something about that."

Derek had to help him back to his feet and he didn't back off when Stiles started to peel off his clothes. He may even intend to join him in the shower, that creep. But Stiles didn't want to shoo him away. If he was honest, he wanted Derek as close as possible.

They did shower together. Derek did the most of the washing while Stiles just stood there with his back against the tiles and just let the water wash away the traces of blood. Derek made quick work of it, he most likely feared that Stiles would topple over any second now. Once Stiles was clean, Derek wrapped him in a big towel and carried him over to the bed.

Then they were lying there, naked and still damp from the shower, and Stiles just snuggled closer, seeking warmth. And the confirmation that Derek was really there. Derek drew the covers over them, making a cocoon for just the two of them.

Stiles yawned but he was too wired to sleep. Besides, it was still the middle of the afternoon.

"I was thinking," Derek broke the silence.

"Hmm?" Stiles made, not really awake.

"I think that I want you to do it."

That got Stiles' attention. He lifted his head to look him in the eye.

"You sure?" He just had to ask.

"Yes," Derek answered without hesitation. "You?"

"Yes." Stiles had made up his mind a while ago. It was a risk and he might lose everything but the possible outcome made it worth it.

Derek brought their lips together and with that, it was settled.

"But we wait until Scott and the others are gone," Stiles told him.

"I can wait a day."

With a content sigh, Stiles snuggled more firmly against Derek, his head on Derek's chest and one hand on his stomach. There was no blood and the skin wasn't broken. Derek was fine and he would be even more fine tomorrow.

They had to get out of bed eventually. Edith was waiting with dinner for them but they took their time. When they finally left their room, they found Isaac and Erica standing out on the porch. Their eyes met but neither of them said a word. Stiles just turned his back on them and walked over to the house. Peter joined them a moment later and Stiles found that he didn't need more in a pack.

Even before they reached the kitchen, Stiles caught the delicious smell of something rich and warm. The events earlier had left him with a cold feeling in his bones that he couldn't shake off. Even in the warm bed with Derek radiating heat right under him, it hadn't been enough to warm him all the way through. But a good home cooked meal might do the trick.

"Right on time," Edith greeted them. "Come in, have a seat."

There was something bubbling in the oven, something with a thick crust of cheese. Stiles licked his lips in anticipation.

"Have you heard the noises earlier?" She asked while she was pouring glasses of juice for them. "Sounded like yelling but I'm too slow these days, by the time I was at the window, there was nobody there."

For Stiles, the fight had felt like hours but in reality it had been a minute maybe two. He was just glad that he didn't have to explain all this to Edith as well. Today he just wanted to enjoy a good meal. Maybe even the images in his head would leave him alone for a little while.

Theo came in a moment later and when he hesitated a second before he took his seat at the table, Stiles was the only one who noticed. But then he was talking to Peter and Derek as if nothing had changed. And it hadn't, not really, not for him. Okay, Theo now knew that Derek sometimes went poof but in the end that didn't really matter. At least not to Theo. Scott crept into Stiles' mind for a second but Stiles forced him out again. Tonight he didn't want to think about any of that.

Edith filled their plates and Stiles happily burned his tongue on the still way too hot cheese crust. He grinned from ear to ear and when he looked over to Derek he found him grinning right back at him. Peter was rolling his eyes at them but then Theo engaged him in a conversation. Stiles had never thought that these two men would find a topic they were both interested in and he had kind of feared that they would talk about fish again but it looked like Theo had enough of fishing for now.

They left the house late with their bellies stuffed and a happy smile on their faces. For the past half an hour Stiles hadn't stopped yawning but he only admitted that maybe he was a bit tired when Edith threatened to put him to bed if he didn't go on his own. Derek promised to take care of that and that was exactly what he was doing now.

Derek made sure that he brushed his teeth before he helped Stiles out of his clothes and then they were back in bed. In sleepwear this time. Stiles still felt that chill in his bones but he hoped it would be gone in the morning. Derek hadn't questioned his choice for the night and had followed suit. He had dug out a t-shirt and a pair of clean underwear from the shopping bags which still stood untouched next to the door.

"You should show me your haul in the morning."

"They're just clothes." Derek slipped under the covers next to him.

"They are your clothes," Stiles corrected. "And I want to know if Peter has smuggled in something embarrassing."

"Like what?" Now Derek was eyeing the bags suspiciously.

"Pink underwear?" It was the first thing coming to mind but that would be too dumb for Peter. "Shirts with baby talk on them. Things like that."

"Peter would do that?" Derek was sitting now and clearly on the edge of going through the bags right now.

"You don't know him as well as I do," Stiles reminded him. "But too late, you already accepted him in your pack."

"If there is pink underwear in there, he can find another alpha," Derek decided but he complied when Stiles tugged at his arm to get him back into a lying position.

Stiles fell asleep mostly lying on Derek, his warm body made a nice pillow. And it didn't hurt that with his ear right over his heart, Stiles could hear that Derek was alive and well. He let that steady sound lull him to sleep.

Stiles woke up alone in bed but he had expected that much. The only proof that Derek had been in bed with him were the t-shirt and that pair of underwear he had left behind.

"Looking forward to finding those still on your body when I wake up," Stiles said aloud. He didn't summon Derek right away, it would just waste energy he might needed later.

Stiles gave himself another five minutes before he rolled out of bed. He took another shower, Derek had done a good job cleaning him up yesterday but Stiles still felt as if there was blood on his hands. There actually was still some under his nails so he took some extra time scrubbing them clean.

Finally dressed and feeling clean again Stiles looked out of the window. Scott's car was gone. That didn't have to mean anything but he dared to hope.

 _Did Scott already leave?_ Stiles texted Peter who instantly answered.

 _Half an hour ago. He wanted to talk to you but they dragged him off_

 _Would have loved to see that_

Peter didn't answer to that so Stiles put the phone away. Scott was gone. It felt strange but freeing at the same time.

A second later, there was a knock at the door. Peter brought breakfast and the tray he was holding came with three cups.

"Derek wants to give it a try," Stiles said while Peter unpacked their breakfast.

"Today?"

"No reason to wait." Stiles shrugged and closed his eyes to bring back Derek. "Peter brought breakfast," Stiles informed him and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Stiles just said that we want to do it today?" Peter spoke up.

"Yes," Derek confirmed. On some level, Stiles had feared that he would change his mind but he was still on board. "If Stiles really wants to do this."

"You two." Peter shook his head. "Can't wait for the _you hang up first, no, you hang up first_."

"We won't," Stiles told him, horrified. "We're not Scott and Kira."

"If you say so," Peter teased him but he handed him a cup of coffee so he was forgiven. Stiles took a sip but his stomach was not really up for coffee. Suddenly he felt sick. Today he would become a werewolf and Derek would become a real person. Or they both died, that was possible too.


	56. Chapter 56

There was no reason to wait any longer. So after breakfast, they headed out. They took Peter's car and Peter drove them out to that spot where Stiles had parked before when he had been out here to find the tree. Not that there was a need to search for it, its power and energy, its whole presence was almost palpable in the air. Just like then, Stiles knew exactly which direction he had to take. He wondered if he would be able to feel it the same way on his way out.

It was possible, highly likely, that he wouldn't be able to work magic as a werewolf. The more pressing question, however, was if the bond between an alpha and his beta was strong enough to counter the bond already between them. Even with the help of the Nemeton, and that was another big if, it could be too weak.

Shaking off those thoughts, Stiles got out of the car but he left his crutches on the back seat. Instead of letting him walk all the way out there Derek had offered another piggyback ride which Stiles happily accepted. There was no real path to the Nemeton and hiking with crutches was just a pain in the ass. Plus, this way they would get there way faster.

When they reached the clearing, they didn't stop at the tree line and walked right up to the tree. It greeted them with a rustle of leaves. At least Stiles hoped it was a greeting. Most likely it had just been the wind.

He slid off Derek's back and then he was awkwardly balancing on one leg before he succumbed to gravity and more or less gracefully sat down in the soft grass at the foot of the tree.

"Here we are," Stiles said and reached out to let his fingertips trail over the rough bark. It prickled, like electricity or a strong field of magic. Stiles felt the hairs in his neck standing up and a shudder went through his body. This was not like it had been last time. He just had no idea if it was a good or a bad sign. Was this the tree defending itself? Repulsing them? Or was this the energy they would need and the tree was already ready and brimming with it? There was only one way to find out.

"Okay." Peter rubbed his hands. "How do you want to do this?"

"You're way too excited for this," Stiles muttered and couldn't help the feeling that he was the virgin and this was his wedding night.

Derek knelt down behind him and put his hand on top of Stiles', pressing his palm flat to the tree. Stiles felt the energy prickling under his palm and he half-expected to see little sparks coming out of the tree.

Stiles closed his eyes and forced his body to relax into the solid wall of Derek behind him.

Derek kissed his neck.

"Do you two want a room?" Peter asked but Stiles got that he was just as nervous as he was.

"Would you shut up already?" Stiles told him nevertheless. "Just go over there and give us a moment." With his free hand he gestured in a random direction, he didn't care where Peter went just that he wasn't breathing down his neck any longer.

Who was breathing down his neck quite literally was Derek. He was still crouching behind him, his body firmly pressed against Stiles. It felt right so Stiles settled more into that position. When it came to his magic, Stiles had learned to trust his guts and he saw no reason to change that now.

"What should we do now?" Derek asked quietly, almost a whisper to not disturb the aura that was clearly around them.

"Whatever feels right," Stiles told him. Their hands together on the tree felt right, too, but otherwise, Stiles had no idea what to do next. Maybe Derek should just bite him.

Derek seemed to think along the same lines because with his free hand he tugged at the collar of Stiles' shirt to expose more of his neck. When he brought his mouth to Stiles' neck, Stiles braced himself for the bite, he expected a sharp pain and was holding his breath to at least counter it a little bit. But instead of biting down on the meaty part, Derek kissed him.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked but he dared to relax again.

"What feels right," Derek said and with his nose, he nudged him behind the ear. Going along with it Stiles let his head fall to the side, exposing his neck to Derek. Who immediately took advantage of it and kissed and licked every bit of skin he could reach. Stiles couldn't help a moan and damn, he was getting hard from this. It might be more of an excitement mixed with fear boner, at least partly, but some was clearly arousal. Peter was still somewhere around and Stiles didn't even want to think about what Peter had to say to the noises he was making and the waves of arousal he was emitting. But that didn't stop Derek from doing what he was doing. He brought his teeth in as well, nipping along the line of Stiles' neck, sending shudders down his spine.

"Are you marking me again?" Stiles asked. Tomorrow his neck would be littered with hickies again and maybe a teeth mark here and there. And the old ones hadn't even time to fade completely. But then he remembered that he wouldn't bare Derek's marks tomorrow. Hickies never lasted on a werewolf, which was a shame.

"You're mine," Derek mumbled into his skin. "Mine."

There was a power behind those words that was not Derek. Not entirely. The prickling sensation under Stiles' palm sparked up for a moment, letting the hairs on his arm stand to end for a second.

"Yours," Stiles whispered back and he felt something shift inside him. A bit like a butterfly feeling but not quite. But before he had time to make sense out of his feelings, Derek bit down on his neck.

Stiles sucked in a breath, he had not been prepared for this, but then he noticed that Derek hadn't broken the skin. He had used his blunt human teeth and now he was soothing the area with little licks and kisses. But this was the spot, Derek would bite him right there.

"Make me bite you," Derek said between more kisses.

"Derek," Stiles said without even thinking but he knew that whatever he was going to say next, Derek would have to follow that order. "Give me the bite."

Derek kissed him again but Stiles could already feel his mouth shifting against his skin. Stiles held his breath and closed his eyes, this was it. There was no going back.

"Do it."

It didn't even hurt that much. Stiles felt the canines breaking the skin, felt them sinking deep into his flesh, but Derek was holding him, keeping him safe.

Stiles let out the breath he was holding and at the same time that prickling under his palm shot up his arm right to where he and Derek were connected in the most intimate way. Right next to his ear Derek made a noise of surprise but he didn't let go, if anything he was biting down harder.

Stiles didn't know how long they stayed like this, it felt like forever but he was pretty sure it was just seconds. Then the electric feeling was gone and Stiles felt his hand slip off the tree. He was now hanging limply in Derek's arms who was carefully licking the blood off his skin.

"Did it work?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know." Derek let go of his neck.

It had been different than a normal bite, that much Stiles could tell. The tree had done something.

"Thank you," Stiles reached out again and gently placed his hand on the trunk again. The feeling of electricity was gone but there was a thrumming going through the magical field coming from the tree. It felt almost satisfied.

"How do you feel?" Derek asked. He peeled himself off Stiles' back and sat down next to him, eyeing him closely.

"Good." Stiles took a moment to take stock of his body. The wound on his neck was throbbing but he had been bitten, it could be worse.

"Are you in pain?" Derek took his hand and a second later there were black lines winding up his forearm. The throbbing eased off and Stiles could focus on the rest of his body. There was something spreading from his neck, he could feel that his body had started to change.

"My leg is cramping," Stiles stated and tried to stretch it out.

Derek gave him an unimpressed look.

"You two are drama queens, you know that?" Peter spoke up. Right, he was there as well. For a moment Stiles had completely forgotten that they weren't alone.

"Says the right one," Stiles muttered. "At least he's taking care of me and doesn't leave me in the woods to die." He raised his voice to make sure that Peter heard it. Not that that was necessary.

"Scott survived." Peter shrugged and crouched down next to them.

"Because I was there to help him," Stiles reminded him. This had been so long ago by now they could banter over it.

Peter tilted his head in a _fair enough_ manner.

"When will we know?" Peter asked.

"No idea." Stiles carefully moved his leg, at least the cramp was easing off. Or it was because Derek was still taking his pain. Usually, the bite needed hours to take, sometimes even a day, but with this one, Stiles had no clue. He could try to dismiss Derek but he didn't dare to. What if it hadn't worked and once Derek was gone, he would be gone forever? It was quite possible that Stiles couldn't work magic any longer, he wouldn't be able to bring him back.

"We'll have to wait it out," Derek said and got more comfortable. He put his arm around Stiles' shoulders and drew him close. Stiles let himself sink into Derek's side, this was good. If this was their last time together he didn't regret it.

He told Derek that much.

"I'll have a look around." Peter hurried to stand up. "Make sure that we're safe here. Holler if you need me."

There wasn't a safer place for miles, they all knew it but Stiles was grateful that Peter gave them some privacy.

Stiles watched him until he wasn't visible through the trees any longer. Peter wouldn't go far, he knew that, but for now, it was just him and Derek here under the tree.

"This feels like a scene from a cheesy romance movie." Stiles couldn't help but laugh at that. "A date under a tree. We should have brought stuff for a picnic."

"Are you hungry?" Derek perked up at that but instantly looked guilty for not bringing any food.

"Down, boy," Stiles teased. "You're a good alpha. I know that you can provide for your pack." It was werewolf behavior, something Derek couldn't really help, but it was cute nevertheless. Derek even blushed a little.

"But you could take off my cast," Stiles suggested. "I hate that thing."

Derek eyed Stiles' leg for a moment but then he ripped the plaster apart as gently as possible, Stiles barely felt a thing, and placed the pieces neatly on a pile. They would take everything with them when they left, there was no way they would litter this place with their trash.

"It's so thin and wrinkly." Stiles poked his leg with the tip of a finger. "And it smells." He wrinkled his nose. He knew that he hadn't been able to wash his leg properly but that it was smelling this bad …

Stiles threw his head back, as far away from his own leg as possible, and took a few deep breaths to get that smell out of his nose. He got hit by a mixture of too many things at once. He smelled the grass and the tree, the light breeze carried the scent of different plants and animals. And Peter? Stiles couldn't see him but he was pretty sure from which direction he was getting his scent.

Slowly Stiles turned to the person sitting right next to him.

He could smell Derek. Not in a _you need a shower_ kind of way, it was more like his eyes were taking in Derek's form and appearance and his nose was taking in his scent. Soap and coffee, the leather of his jacket and something that made Stiles think of werewolf and alpha. It all came together to something unique that was Derek.

"I think the bite took hold," Stiles said, still bathing in that scent. He needed more of this and shoved his nose right in the crook of Derek's neck. Why was he smelling so good?

Derek clearly had no idea how to react to this so he awkwardly closed his arms around Stiles.

"You sure?" Derek asked. Stiles grinned into his neck and said the only thing he needed to say: "Yes, alpha."


	57. Chapter 57

Derek didn't feel any different. There had been something like an electric shock coming from the tree when he'd bitten Stiles but otherwise Derek felt nothing out of the ordinary. But at the moment his focus was on Stiles anyway.

Derek took Stiles' pain, the little there was, and helped him to stretch out his healing leg. He hadn't thought of bringing food or even water and for a moment Derek felt bad about that. He should make sure that Stiles had everything he needed but Stiles assured him that it was fine, that he was taking good care of him.

There was so much Derek wanted to say, just in case, but he didn't know where to even start. But sitting here with Stiles in his arms was good, he liked it.

However, sitting still had never been Stiles' thing and sure enough, he got restless rather quickly. His leg had calmed down but suddenly the cast had to go. Now.

With an amused smile Derek took care of it and while he was still busy stacking the bits and pieces of the plaster into a neat pile so that they wouldn't miss anything later, Stiles was exterminating his leg.

The smell wasn't that bad, nothing a shower couldn't fix, but of course Stiles had to exaggerate. He huffed and puffed and even waved his hand to get that smell out of his nose. But suddenly he went very still. Stiles took another breath. He was looking around as if he was trying to pinpoint something but then he turned back to Derek and took another breath. Sniffing the air, Derek realized.

"I think the bite took hold," Stiles said, his eyes fixed on Derek and his nostrils flaring.

Stiles called him alpha.

Derek choked on the sudden lump in his throat. A second later he had Stiles in his arms and Derek held on for dear life.

He didn't know if he would come out of the next in-between or if they had done it and there wouldn't be an in-between ever again, which was kind of a scary thought, but he didn't care. Stiles was okay. The bite had taken hold, he would live. Stiles was alive and well, Derek didn't even fight the tears burning in his eyes.

"Alpha," Stiles said again as if he wanted to try out the word. He had been in a pack, he had an alpha before but Derek guessed that this was different. Stiles was a werewolf now, a beta. His beta.

The transformation was still not finished, Derek could tell, but that was only a matter of time. However, Stiles had not the patience for that. He wiggled himself out of Derek's arms and then he was looking at the pile of plaster sitting in the grass right next to them.

"I'm too scared," he admitted. He didn't have to say what he was afraid of. Derek didn't know what he intended to do with those pieces, make them float most likely, but he got that Stiles feared that nothing would happen. That he had lost his magic forever.

"Try it," Derek encouraged him.

Stiles gave him a sharp nod and then he was looking at the pile as if he wanted to incinerate it with his glare alone.

Derek was watching the piece of plaster on top of the pile but nothing happened.

Stiles raised his hand, pointing at it, but it still didn't do anything.

"Wingardium leviosa," he said. His arm was trembling with the tension and he was holding it up for a second longer before he let it drop.

"It's not working," he said quietly, resigned. "It's gone."

Derek couldn't even begin to understand what that meant for Stiles. His magic had been a big part of him, Derek wouldn't even be here without it. And now it was gone.

"I'm sorry." Derek reached for him but Stiles shrugged off his hand.

"I can't bring you back," he said, his voice broken and small. "If it didn't work, I can't bring you back."

"It worked, you felt it," Derek assured him.

"Are you sure?" Stiles fixed him with a hard look. "Can you tell? Do you know?"

"No." Derek shook his head. "I don't feel any different. But the tree …" The tree had done something, that much he knew.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Stiles yelled. "You can still be gone any minute now and I won't be able to bring you back."

Derek couldn't argue with that. Fact was, they had no way of knowing. If he was still here by nightfall it had worked, he guessed.

There was nothing they could do to change the outcome now so they had to wait it out. But that was okay. Maybe it was his shade nature, he had always been fine with waiting for Stiles' next order. Which reminded him …

"Tell me to do something."

"That wouldn't prove anything." Stiles shook his head. "Bringing you over and freeing you are two different things. You could be really here and still bound to my will. Or you have a free will and you're still going to go poof."

"But we can at least determine if I have a free will," Derek insisted. For Stiles' sake, he hoped that at least this part of the plan had worked. But he had to admit that he was curious as well. It had never bothered him that he had to do whatever Stiles was telling him to do but it had always been an important thing for Stiles. Stiles had done what he could to give Derek the option to say no but they both had known that Stiles could take that option away whenever he wanted. He had done it just the other day. By accident and he still felt bad about it, Derek knew, but still. One word from Stiles and Derek had stopped defending himself and had let Scott rip him to shreds.

It would be interesting to find out how it felt when he knew that Stiles couldn't make him do anything, though.

"Derek, run over there."

Derek followed his finger with his eyes, Stiles was pointing at a tree at the edge of the clearing, but he didn't feel the urge to follow that order.

"No."

Stiles smacked their lips together in a hungry kiss with teeth clacking together and lips stretched in a wide grin that made kissing almost impossible.

"Do you want to stay here the whole time or do you want to go back?" Peter interrupted them. He hadn't been far, Derek had heard him walking a circle around them, so he had most likely heard everything.

"We should go back," Stiles decided and scrambled to his feet. Both this time. The grass was poking out between his bare toes but his calf looked better already. He still needed a shower, though. "If we only have a few hours left, I'd rather spend them in our room and not out in the woods."

Peter didn't make a sex remark at that for which Derek was grateful. He wasn't even sure if that was what was on Stiles' mind. He was a newborn werewolf who still had to adjust. Derek had always been a werewolf so he didn't know what kind of changes Stiles was going through but he doubted that it was pleasant. Peter had made some comments about that. He had even suggested getting a choking collar for Stiles to keep him under control. Derek hoped it had been a joke but he doubted it.

Stiles wanted to walk back to the car but he had no shoe for his one foot, not even a sock, so Derek gave him another piggyback ride. Stiles was clinging to him with more force now but he doubted that Stiles even noticed. He was too busy turning his head here and there, sniffing the air, and every two seconds he asked: "Did you hear that?"

"Who thought turning the guy with the ADHD was a good idea?" Peter asked with his head tilted back as if he hoped to find the answer in the branches above them.

"It's not that bad," Derek said. At the moment it was kind of endearing. He just had to make sure that Stiles didn't slip off with his twisting and turning.

"Wait until he's screaming SQUIRREL," Peter promised darkly.

"You have watched that movie?" Somehow Stiles had paid attention to that. "Never thought that's your kind of thing. How did you like it? That thing with the … what was that?"

Peter gave Derek a look as if that was proving something. Derek didn't even know what they were talking about. He just hoisted Stiles up higher, he had been slipping again, and kept walking.

On the drive back Derek had to keep Stiles from sticking his head out of the window like a dog and he breathed easier once they got out of the car in the motel's parking lot.

"I'm in my room if you need me," Peter told Derek while he nonchalantly grabbed Stiles by the neck to keep him from wandering off. "He can be a handful even without the ability to sprout claws."

"Thanks, Peter." Out of instinct Derek reached for him and drew him close until he could breathe in his scent. Peter came willingly into his arms and for a moment he buried his nose in Derek's neck.

"Ehm, guys?" Stiles spoke up but Derek was focused on Peter, he had two betas and right now it was Peter who needed him. "I don't think the parking lot is the right place for making out."

He was probably right but Derek didn't really care. They took the time they needed to connect as alpha and beta and only then he stepped back from Peter.

"We should celebrate tonight," Peter said. "I think we would all love a good steak, my treat." With that, he turned on his heel and walked over to his room.

"Optimistic," Stiles commented. "Let's go inside, in case you haven't noticed I'm standing barefoot on gravel."

"Want me to carry you?"

"Don't you dare." Stiles glanced over to the office. From this angle, it was hard to tell if anybody was in there. Derek didn't hear a heartbeat coming from that direction but the wind was blowing the wrong way to be sure.

They hurried over to their room where Stiles announced that he needed a shower. His leg was still too smelly.

"Want to join me?" Stiles was basically dragging him towards the bathroom. Since he could use both feet and constantly had his hands free again, he used that to his advantage to not only drag Derek with him, he was also working on getting him out of his leather jacket.

"We are wearing way too many clothes," Stiles commented but then he paused and looked down on the jacket in his hand. "Should this still be here?" He wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're real now, should your clothes be still here? Shouldn't they have vanished? Does this mean that you'll vanish on me after all?" Stiles was talking himself into his next panic attack. His heart was racing and he kept talking too fast and too much.

"Stiles." Derek stilled his hands that were working the collar of his jacket, with a hint of claws. "Stiles, it's okay."

"It's not." Stiles grabbed the jacket harder as if that would make it more real. "When you go, I won't be able to bring you back. I can't ... I can't do that anymore."

"You said it yourself, nobody has ever done anything like this before." Derek ducked his head to look him in the eye. "We don't know the rules. Maybe my clothes are supposed to stay. Maybe the tree didn't want to see my naked ass."

That got him a laugh. A strangled sound but a laugh nevertheless.

"We don't know," Derek repeated. "But if we only have a few hours left, I don't want to spend them worrying over what might happen. Can we do that?"

"Okay." It was barely a whisper. "Shower?"

They didn't have sex in the shower, they didn't even really touch each other. Stiles just wanted to wash the grime off his leg and the blood off his neck. The wound started bleeding again but Stiles didn't seem to be worried about it.

"Those always takes the longest to heal," he said and patched himself up so he wouldn't bleed on anything.

Then they went to bed. It was the middle of the day but they both just wanted the other one close. They were naked but there was not a _this might be our last chance_ sex vibe between them. Stiles was lying with his head on Derek's chest, they had their fingers laced together and Stiles was absently playing with them.

"Your heart is so loud," Stiles commented with awe. They had drawn the covers over their heads to block out the noises and the smells but Stiles still found new things to comment on.

"I'm here, not going anywhere." Derek could only hope that it was true.


	58. Chapter 58

Derek's heart-beat was loud in Stiles' ear, steady and alive and there. It blocked out all the other noises. Stiles closed his eyes and just listened to that noise right under him. The sensory overload wasn't as bad as he had feared but there was so much. It had been worse out in the woods, all the different smells, the noises and he had wanted to follow all of them.

It was better here, in their room, but there were still noises coming from outside, the birds and the wind and a car from time to time. The water in the pipes and the building itself, everything made noises.

Hell, his own body made noises. Stiles had never noticed it before but the blood in his vessels, the air in his lungs, what was happening in his belly and so much more, he could hear it all. Same with Derek's body. And those were just the noises. The things he could smell in their room alone. Even with the covers drawn over his head, there was so much to smell. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he could still smell traces of the person who had slept in here before them, though. But mostly the bed smelled like them, like Stiles and Derek, a bit like food. Sex. And old farts.

But then Stiles focused on Derek. His heart-beat and that mixture of scents that made Derek Derek. He fell asleep cocooned in Derek, the world outside blocked out.

Stiles startled awake on high alert without even knowing what had startled him.

"Easy," Derek said low and soothing but with an iron grip on Stiles' wrists. Stiles' first instinct was to fight his way out of that grip but when he actually looked at his hands, he found them with his claws out. Right, he had claws now.

"Okay?" Derek asked and slowly he let go of him.

Stiles set up straighter and looked at his hands. He turned them around and back again, wiggling his fingers.

"Careful," Derek said, still eyeing him closely.

Only now Stiles remembered what had happened.

"What time is it?" He twisted around to check the alarm clock on the nightstand. Just past five. He had summoned Derek in the morning. Derek had lasted longer than this before but with everything that had been going on lately Stiles doubted that he had had enough magical energy to sustain Derek for this long.

"You're still here." Stiles reached for him to make sure that he really was here.

"Looks like." Derek gave him a smile.

"How do you feel? Anything different? You're not going to go poof any second now, are you?" Stiles eyed him warily but Derek stayed where he was and didn't evaporate right in front of him.

"I'm fine," Derek assured him. "I feel good."

Stiles glanced back at the clock. They should be safe now. Should. Maybe.

"Sorry, I fell asleep on you." Stiles let himself drop back on Derek, he was warm and comfy.

"Your body is still changing," Derek reminded him.

Stiles could feel it. He had been fit before, he had not been as weak as his pack had seen him, but he felt already stronger now. He doubted it was visible on the outside but his whole body felt different.

"Do you like the changes?" Stiles asked. He had never wanted to become a werewolf. He had seen what it had done to Scott, in the beginning when they had no clue what had been happening to him. He had seen werewolves out of control, Derek was the result of one of those encounters.

The full moon was just a week away. Stiles was already not looking forward to that. They might have to use the choker collar Peter had suggested because Stiles highly doubted that he would gain full control of his new werewolf side in a week.

"I like you," Derek answered the question. "It doesn't matter if you're a wolf or not."

"Really?" Stiles couldn't help the hopeful tone in his voice.

"Really." Derek gave him a kiss and didn't shy back when Stiles' canines were suddenly a bit too long for human teeth. His gums were itching and it took all his willpower to retract his teeth. How he had done it with his claws he had no idea but when he reached up to cup Derek's face, his fingertips were humanly blunt.

"Damn, you smell good," Stiles mumbled into the kiss. Derek hadn't vanished over the last few minutes and Stiles dared to hope that it would stay that way. He twisted a little until he was lying on top of Derek, their legs tangled together.

"You have something in mind?" Derek raised his eyebrow at him.

"I was thinking about victory sex." Stiles rolled his hips against Derek's. Neither of them was hard but it was still a delicious feeling. "And I want to find out if it's true what they say about werewolf stamina."

"Is that so?" Derek made a thinking face but his scent changed ever so slightly and his heart was beating just a little bit faster.

"Ha," Stiles made. "You can't hide anything from me now. You like this."

"Maybe?" Derek kissed him again. He wiggled his hands under the blanket and grabbed Stiles' butt with both hands.

"Definitely." Stiles pushed more firmly into Derek's hands. He felt his blood rushing down, his cock started to fill, and if he wasn't mistaken, the same was happening to Derek. There was something poking into his hip, that much he could tell.

Turned out sex as a werewolf wasn't that easy. More often than once Stiles nicked Derek with his claws or bit his lip bloody when his mouth suddenly had more teeth than just a second ago but all in all it wasn't too bad. Pretty good actually. The things he could smell and hear from Derek, it made them even more in tune.

Today Stiles needed it a bit more rough so when Derek finally entered him, Stiles was on his knees with an iron grip on the headboard. He just hoped they wouldn't break another bed.

Derek was fucking him from behind, hard and fast, and Stiles acutely needed to brace himself on the headboard otherwise he would just brain himself on the wall. Derek had his hands on Stiles' hips, ignoring Stiles' cock which was flopping around between his legs. It was hard and aching and just begging for attention. Stiles wanted to reach for it, bring himself over with some quick strokes but he couldn't get his hand off the headboard.

"Ehm, Derek?" Stiles asked while Derek was still pounding into him. He must have processed Stiles words with a delay because it took him a few more thrusts before he stopped. He was still buried deep in Stiles but his hands were now running up and down his back, soothing and clearly worried.

"What's wrong?"

"How do you retract these?" Stiles pulled again but he still couldn't get his hands free.

"What?" Derek asked. Stiles couldn't see him but he could tell exactly when Derek realized what the problem was. It was when he burst out laughing. He managed to hold himself upright for a second but then he collapsed on Stiles, shaking with laughter.

"Not funny." Stiles pulled again but his claws stayed lodged in the wood of the headboard. If he pulled more, he would break off the top part so he gave up. His claws would retract on their own eventually, right?

Derek had slipped off, and out, and was now on his hands and knees next to him but one glance at Stiles and he convulsed in a new fit of laughter. Stiles could only stand it for so long. He glared at Derek but he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and then he broke down as well.

Somewhere in there he must have retracted his claws because when the last chuckles died down, Stiles was lying on his side, holding his belly with both hands.

"Damn, I needed that." He wiped the tears of laughter off his face while Derek nodded in agreement. Stiles couldn't even start to imagine how the last hours had been for him. Lying in bed with a sleeping Stiles on top of him and just waiting to stop existing forever. Not knowing must have made it even worse.

"You're here." Stiles reached over and cupped his face. Derek closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek into Stiles' palm. "You're here for real, you're not going anywhere." By now he was sure of that. He let out a dry sob and then he was clinging to Derek. They stayed like that for a little while but in the end, it was Stiles' stomach that decided that they should get out of bed.

"Didn't Peter say something about streak?" Stiles asked. "I could eat. Meat, I need meat and lots of it. Damn, I could eat a whole cow."

Now he understood Malia. He wouldn't mind to sink his teeth into his prey and rip out big chunks. But that would mean he had to hunt it first and he wasn't patient enough for that. He needed food. Now.

Besides, Peter was most likely waiting for news on them. Stiles pictured him pacing his room. For him, it was about the question of being a beta or an omega and if Derek hadn't made it Peter would not only have to deal with being an omega himself, he would have to deal with Stiles as well. Being freshly turned was never easy but without an alpha? Stiles had seen that with Scott, no thank you.

Stiles reached for his phone to tell Peter the good news and that they would be ready to head out for dinner soon.

He had muted his phone earlier and when he turned it on now, he remembered why.

He had missed calls and messages from Scott, that was expected, Scott was not somebody to let go easily, but it looked like the whole pack had tried to reach him. Even his dad had tried to call him twice and he had left a few messages, demanding that Stiles called him back.

The rest Stiles could ignore, he was not in the mood to deal with Scott and the others but he couldn't ignore his dad.

"I have to call my dad." Stiles let out a sigh. "Why don't you clean up and get dressed?"

"Shall I text Peter?" Derek asked and it took Stiles a long moment to remember that Peter had said something about a phone for Derek. His and Peter's number were most likely already in there.

"If you want," Stiles agreed with a wide grin. The fact alone that Derek suggested something like this on his own was kind of awesome. But then he sobered up because his dad had picked up at the other end.

"Stiles?" His dad asked in a way that made clear that he was kind of expecting somebody else on the phone. Maybe the police to inform him that his son was dead.

"It's me." Stiles hurried to say.

"Thank God."

"I didn't mean to worry you."

When they had spoken on the phone the other day, Stiles had told him that he had met somebody, another alpha, and that he would leave Scott's pack to be with him. It had been the truth. His dad hadn't liked the idea, naturally, and he would have liked to meet the man before Stiles rushed into things he might regret later but in the end, it came down to the fact that he just wanted Stiles to be happy. Stiles hadn't told him the details about Derek but he had admitted that Derek had a problem they had to deal with first and that it was dangerous. Just the same old day in the office, Stiles had joked.

"Scott called me," his dad said. "He said …"

"Whatever Scott said," Stiles cut him off, "he's exaggerating. Yes, Derek started out as one of my shades but he is a real person now. And I didn't cross any lines to make that happen. But I am kind of a werewolf now." The last bit came out rushed, just a jumble of words.

"You're what?"

Stiles stayed on the phone with him for more than half an hour but he ended the call with a good feeling. His dad would get his and Peter's things from the Hale house and Stiles and the other two of their little pack would come by for a visit soon. There was still the thing with Derek's identity but altering the files of the Hale fire was only one little piece, a loose end Stiles wanted to take care of, and his dad had agreed to help them. After he'd met Derek. Which was just fair, Stiles guessed.

In the meantime, more messages had piled up but Stiles just muted his phone again and then he hurried to get dressed. There was steak waiting for him.


	59. Chapter 59

Peter was more optimistic than Stiles. Even if he didn't know what had actually happened at the tree, he knew that something had happened.

He had seen that instead of just biting him Derek had made out with Stiles and for a moment Peter had been worried that they would go much farther than that. Sex magic was a thing and with Stiles' wild interpretation of magic one never knew, but in the end, Derek had just bitten him.

But Peter had felt something, some kind of shift in the air and he knew that something more had happened than just the bite.

The bite took hold but Stiles lost his magic. Two things Stiles had never wanted to happen. Peter wasn't even sure if Stiles would have taken an emergency bite or if he would rather die. But here he was, taking the bite willingly and giving up his magic on top of it.

So while Stiles and Derek were in their room, most likely angsting over nothing, Peter made some calls and wrote some emails. He had used fake identities before but not something that was meant to last. And he'd never taken the identity of a real person. But there was a first time for everything and it was something he could do for his new alpha.

Restoring Derek's identity would take more than a few calls, and way more time than a few hours, but Peter got the basics covered. Once Derek was officially a Hale he would inherit his share of the Hale estate, legally he would be Talia's son, and to his own surprise, Peter found that it didn't bother him.

He had given the restored Hale house to Scott, the pack watching over Beacon Hills had always lived on that property and Peter wanted it to stay that way, and he had made sure that Malia had gotten her fair share as well. His daughter had come as a late surprise, a stranger, but she was family and pack and Peter had welcomed her with open arms.

Derek wasn't family but maybe he could be. The real Derek was dead, he had died a long time ago and it should feel wrong to use his name, his identity, for this Derek now but it did not. This Derek could never take the place of the Derek who died. Maybe legally but never in Peter's heart. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a place in there as well.

"And now I'm getting sentimental," Peter said into the empty room. He sat there, lost in memories of his family, when his phone rang. He had gotten a few messages from the pack but not that many. He had never been that connected with them. Scott had left an angry voicemail, telling him that he was insane and that he should bring Stiles to his senses before he killed himself in that crazy attempt to bring Derek to life. Peter didn't even bother with calling him back. He could tell him that everything was set and done but he feared that Scott would turn the car around and come back when he heard that Stiles was a werewolf now.

The caller ID said _Malia_.

For a second Peter just stared at his phone, tempted to let it go to voicemail, but then he did answer.

"Scott says you left," she stated without a greeting. "With Stiles."

"I left Scott's pack," Peter corrected. "I didn't leave you. I'm still your father if you want me to be." They never had a real father-daughter relationship but over the years they had come to some kind of truce. She didn't call him in the middle of the night to cry over some boy, she wasn't the type for that anyway, and Peter didn't call weekly to ask how she was doing, but when it mattered they knew the other one was there. Peter hoped it would stay that way.

"Scott is talking nonsense about Stiles and one of his shades." She didn't touch the father thing so Peter guessed things would stay the way they were. "He's talking about black magic."

"It's over," Peter told her. "Stiles didn't use black magic, you can tell Scott that. In fact, he didn't use magic at all. But the shade is a real person now and he's our alpha." Saying it like that did sound crazy but Peter didn't care what it sounded like. It was the truth.

Of course, Malia had questions but there wasn't really anything Peter could tell her. He promised to visit some time but he wasn't part of Scott's pack any longer and technically Scott had every right to throw him out of his territory.

Things would become really interesting with Stiles, though. His dad and Scott's mom were married, family dinners were bound to become really awkward. Peter was looking forward to it.

He didn't tell Malia about Stiles being a werewolf now, it was not on him to tell, and they ended the call with the promise to stay in touch.

"That went better than expected," Peter mused.

The next message he got was from Derek. Looked like the former shade was adapting quickly to his new life. Apparently, he and Stiles had finally realized that Derek would stay and they were ready to head out for that steak Peter had promised them.

Turned out that Stiles was still on the phone with his dad so they had to wait for him to finish but then they were in the car and Peter was driving them out of town. It was a nice town but there was no place here that served a decent steak, he had checked.

"Dad is going to get our stuff out of the Hale house," Stiles informed him. "We can get it when we visit him."

"Are we now." Peter hadn't planned on getting anything out of the house any time soon. Knocking at Scott's door was probably a bad idea right now and Peter really didn't want to face the rest of the pack. However, there were a few things he would like to get back before Scott threw them out in a fit. And if Stiles' dad offered …

"He wants to meet Derek."

"Fair enough," Peter had to agree. Derek was Stiles' new alpha and they were basically engaged, of course the Sheriff wanted to meet him.

"You think we should go back this soon?" Peter asked after a moment. They both had family in town so even without being in Scott's pack any longer, it would be against common werewolf politics to deny entrance to the territory for a family visit.

With Derek, however, things were different. He might carry the name Hale now but Scott knew that he wasn't really a Hale. And Derek was an alpha. Who had stolen Stiles. There was no way Scott would take that lightly. He might even challenge Derek. Again.

"Just a short visit." Stiles was chewing his bottom lip. "After the full moon?"

At least that way he wouldn't run wild in Beacon Hills on his first full moon.

There was also the thing about separating Stiles and Derek. Peter had South America in mind for that, he had some business he wanted to take care off down there, but he didn't bring it up now. First the full moon, then a visit to Beacon Hills and then the rest.

They arrived at the steak house and once Stiles had caught a whiff of cooking meat, everything else was forgotten anyway.

Stiles ate three steaks but only the bits of the side dishes Derek basically force fed him. It was highly amusing to see them together. Peter sat back in his seat and just watched. He had the suspicion that Derek had interacted with Edith a little too much but he could count the people Derek knew on one hand, literally, there weren't many choices for role models in Derek's life and Peter guessed it could be worse. But he and Stiles did have that old married couple vibe.

After his third steak Stiles was clearly considering a fourth one but in the end, decided against it. He didn't say no to dessert, though.

They left the steak house feeling stuffed and pleasantly tired.

Peter went to bed right away, it had been a long day, and left Stiles and Derek to whatever they wanted to do with the rest of the evening. Peter really didn't want to know. Earlier they had reeked of sex again.

In the morning Peter came out of his room just in time to catch Edith and Stiles in kind of a heated argument.

"Peter," Edith called him over. "Tell Stiles to stop being childish."

"I'm not childish," Stiles answered with a pout.

"Did you know about this?" Edith gestured at Stiles but Peter wasn't sure what she was referring to.

"I'm going to call Vivian," she said in a huff but then she turned to Peter. "Get him in the car and to the hospital, Vivian will have everything ready."

"I'm fine," Stiles insisted. "I don't need the cast and the crutches any longer. See?" He jumped up and down on one foot. The one that had been in a cast until yesterday. The one that should have stayed in a cast for at least for a few weeks longer.

"I see." Peter put his hand on Stiles' shoulder to get him to stop with the jumping. They should have left last night but Stiles wanted to stay for a little while longer, at least for the full moon. He was getting way too attached to this place but Peter had to agree that the woods around the Nemeton were probably the best place for Stiles' first full moon.

"I heal fast," Stiles piped up. "Runs in the family."

"You still shouldn't have taken off your cast by yourself," Edith scolded him. "At least take your crutches. And no, you're not going to get them yourself. You're going to stand right here, on your good foot, and Peter will bring you your crutches. Right, Peter?"

Seeing Stiles squirm under her gaze was entertaining but when she turned that gaze on him because he wasn't moving quick enough, not moving at all to be correct, Peter shook his head and walked over to Stiles' room. Slowly.

As amusing as this was, and Stiles really should have thought about this before he had gotten rid of his cast, Peter wondered where Derek was. It was rare to see just one of them and for a second Peter was worried that Derek was gone once and for all. He wasn't in the room either which didn't help to shake off the bad feeling.

Stiles would be acting differently if Derek had gone poof over night, Peter was sure of that but now he grabbed the crutches and hurried to get back to Stiles.

"Where's Derek?" Peter tried to sound casual but the way Stiles tensed up at that question, he knew exactly what was going on in Peter's head.

"Went to get us breakfast," Stiles hurried to explain. "I mentioned that I'm starving and off he went."

Peter didn't remind him of the three steaks he had last night. Plus dessert. It would take some time for his body to get used to its new metabolism.

"If he keeps up with this, I'm going to get fat," Stiles whined but at least he took the crutches.

"He wants to provide for you," Peter told him. Not that Stiles didn't know already. It was a werewolf thing. Derek wanted to provide for his pack. He wanted to show that he was a good alpha who cared for his pack. And his mate.

That was the reason Peter didn't get as much attention as Stiles. On a cognitive level, every werewolf knew that it didn't work that way but the more animalistic part didn't care about that. It was kind of a courtship and even if Stiles was complaining, he was falling for it. He wasn't fooling anyone.

"Can we at least wait with the trip to the hospital until we had breakfast?" Stiles almost pleaded. "I'm starving."

Edith didn't like it but an empty belly was her weak spot so she reluctantly agreed. If Stiles didn't put weight on his leg and Peter had to promise to take him to the hospital right after breakfast. In the meantime, she would call Vivian to get things ready on her end.

"Why are we even playing this charade?" Peter asked half an hour later when he was in the car with Stiles and Derek. He hadn't even time to finish his coffee.

"Because otherwise she would call Johnny and he would bring me to the hospital with flashing lights," Stiles said, still nursing his own coffee.

"We could just skip town," Peter suggested just to bring up that option. When he had been on the road with Stiles, they had left the second the job was done. And their job here was done, he was sitting in the back seat. There were woods all over this area, they didn't need to stay here for Stiles' first full moon.

"I like this town." Stiles shrugged. "I like these people."


	60. Chapter 60

After some struggle, and scolding from Dr. Esser, Stiles did get the all clear from her. Even if she couldn't quite believe what the x-rays were telling her. People were not supposed to just walk on broken legs one week later. But there was no medical reason for a cast any longer and even if she couldn't help telling him to take it easy and maybe use the crutches for at least a few days longer, Stiles was free to go.

She even promised to give Edith a call just in case she didn't believe him.

"What is the plan for today?" Peter asked once they had the hospital in the rear view mirror.

"Training?" Stiles asked. By now he could retract his claws, most of the time, but he still had the tendency to sprout sideburns at inappropriate moments and he had almost ripped off the faucet this morning because he had no sense of his own strength.

"The woods?" Peter suggested and already took the right turn for that.

They spent most of the day out there. It wasn't just about learning control and to anchor himself, Stiles had to learn a whole new way of fighting. Most of the time when Peter or Derek attacked him, his first instinct was to counter with magic. He grabbed Peter's wrist to shock him or he rammed his shoulder into Derek with the intention to boost it with magic to throw him off his feet. Every time something like that happened was a reminder that that part of his life was gone forever.

That night Stiles cried in Derek's arms.

He didn't regret it. He would do it again in a heartbeat. But his magic had been a huge part of his life for so long, it was as if a part of him had been cut out of his mind. There was no shady place any longer. He still could sense the magic fields around, especially when he was near the Nemeton, but even that was dulled down. With his new werewolf senses, the world was full of new impressions but there was so much missing. He couldn't even put in words what was missing.

Derek didn't have an answer for him. All he could do was to hold him during the dark hours of the night. A few times he opened his mouth but Stiles cut him off before he could say that he was sorry.

"I don't regret you," Stiles said. "I could never regret you."

It got better over the next days. Stiles was adjusting, he was learning. But there was a hole in his mind and he doubted that it would ever go away. Not completely.

The night of the full moon they were out in the woods, all three of them, and for the first time, Stiles really felt it. The pull of the moon and how his body responded. It felt natural, good actually.

That night Stiles was laughing when he ran with his pack. Derek threw his head back and howled at the moon, it was so cliche it should have been silly, but that howl vibrated through Stiles and he threw his head back as well and answered his alpha. There was a third voice joining in, Peter was somewhere to his right, and their calls echoed through the forest. Pack.

It was almost sunrise when they came back to the motel. Stiles didn't really remember the last hours, it was just a blur of impressions and feelings, but he had never felt this good in his life. And this tired. He crawled into bed and didn't even bother with taking off his shoes. Derek took care of those but otherwise, he just left him as he was and stretched out next to him.

It was way after noon when Stiles woke up. The other side of the bed was empty but he could hear the shower running. No point in getting up just yet, he decided and snuggled deeper under the covers.

The smell of his own sweat hit his nose along with the earthy smell of the forest. There was even blood somewhere in the mix but he couldn't tell if it was his own or if he had actually hunted something. He had a bad case of morning breath, that much he could tell, but he didn't really want to think too closely about that.

"We have ruined another set of sheets," Stiles informed Derek when he finally came out of the bathroom. They had carried in dirt and leaves and Stiles was pretty sure that there was at least one twig poking him in the butt.

"How do you feel?" Derek asked. Looked like he was more worried about Stiles than the sheets he was lying on.

"Good. Really good." Stiles gave him a wide grin. He had been worried about his first full moon but it had been awesome. But then it occurred to him that Derek had never experienced a full moon before either. They all had been so focused on Stiles, nobody had really thought about Derek.

"How do you feel?" Stiles returned the question. "It was your first full moon as well."

For a moment Derek thought about it. Thinking was not a good sign. Stiles scrambled to the foot of the bed.

"It was my first full moon," Derek said as if he was trying to translate something into words that wasn't meant for words. "But at the same time, it wasn't? Does that make sense?"

Thinking about it, it did. Stiles' shades came, had come, with a set of abilities, some common like driving some more specialized. When he had summoned Batman or Elsa they had come with a firm grip on their abilities. They had been past their learning phase and knew what they were doing.

"When I summoned you for the first time," Stiles said, remembering that very first time. "I wanted an alpha werewolf. I'm guessing you're a born werewolf but you came as a grown man. So technically you have what, twenty-something years of being a werewolf under your belt? Does that make sense?"

Apparently, it did but Stiles couldn't help but wonder how it felt to have experiences he had never really experienced. It was kind of sad, actually.

However, with Stiles having his new werewolf nature under control, more or less, there was no reason to stay here any longer. If he was honest, Stiles had the feeling that they were running out of time. His phone was never quiet for long but so far no job had come up. But that was only a matter of time.

Most of the time, it was Scott trying to reach him, whom he ignored at least for now. His dad wanted to be kept updated and various members of his former pack were trying to contact him as well, everybody wanted an explanation. Not that Stiles could give them one.

Melissa called once. That had been an awkward conversation. Scott was her son but so was Stiles, she was his stepmother after all. She wasn't worried about Stiles being a werewolf, something the others still had a hard time wrapping their head around, she was more worried about Scott's and Stiles' friendship.

"He's worried about you," she said.

"I know." Stiles let out a sigh. "But the way he attacked Derek … that was not okay." The images of that fight still haunted Stiles' dreams. Scott might have been the one to attack Derek but it had been Stiles who had forced him to just take it.

"Just talk to him," she almost begged. "You're still coming here, right?"

"Yeah, we're leaving in the morning."

"That's good, we missed you."

"Missed you, too."

Stiles ended the call with the good feeling that she still had his back and was not just taking Scott's side.

Edith didn't like that they were leaving but she had known that they would leave eventually. For their last day she invited them over for dinner and Stiles was pretty sure that they would get the leftovers as sandwiches for the ride.

She had made a roast with green beans and mashed potatoes and Stiles was stuffing his face.

"Have some more." She scooped more mashed potatoes on his plate. "You must be starving."

It was more that his body still hadn't figured out how to deal with his faster metabolism and running through the woods all day didn't really help with saving energy. Stiles knew that it would tune down in a bit but for now, he was eating whatever he could get.

Edith didn't seem to mind, she took him suddenly being a hearty eater as a compliment and maybe as a challenge. The pie she brought out for dessert spoke for itself.

After dinner, Edith and Theo invited them to stay for a little while longer and they brought the evening to an end on Edith's couch with a glass of wine and quiet laughter.

"You're always welcome here, you know that, right?" Edith was hugging them one by one, even Peter, when she was seeing them to the door. They had exchanged numbers and in a quiet moment, Stiles had told Theo to give him a call if anything happened, anything unusual. They did have a Nemeton basically in their backyard after all. It was mostly sleeping and not doing much but one never knew.

In exchange, Theo empathized that they really were welcomed in his house. Stiles had told him about his change of nature, it seemed only fair, and Theo still wanted them to come by from time to time.

"You know," Stiles said to Derek when they were lying in bed that night. "This could be our territory." As far as he could tell there wasn't another pack around and with the Nemeton here it seemed like a good idea to have people around who actually knew what was going on. Not that there was going on much which was kind of nice.

"It could be our home base," Stiles mused. It would be nice to have a place he could come home to. And Beacon Hills was not that far away, he could still visit his dad and Melissa.

"But you still want me to leave with Peter," Derek said. His face was hidden in the shadows and his tone was hard to read.

"For a few months. Longer if you need it, take your time." Stiles rolled to his side to face him. "Please trust me on this, we have to do this."

Derek didn't seem convinced but he was willing to go along with it because it was what Stiles wanted. Which was part of the problem.

"You can call me, anytime," Stiles told him. "And I'm your beta, you have to kick me out of your pack if you want to get rid of me."

"I would never want that." Derek rolled to his side as well so that they were facing each other.

"One more thing." There was something Stiles had thought about for a while now. "While you're gone … we are not in a relationship."

Derek sucked in a breath and even in the mostly dark room, Stiles could see the hurt flashing over his face before he got his features under control again.

"I am your beta, nothing will change that," Stiles said, choosing his words carefully. "But at the moment I can't be more."

"Don't you want me?" His voice was small.

"I do want you." Stiles reached over to cup his face. "More than you know. I want to be your mate and I want to grow old with you. But I want you to know that you're free to explore whatever you want. You can see other people, you can have sex with them if you want to. I want you to live a life without me. And when you've tried that and you still think that I'm the best thing in your life, I'll be waiting for you." Stiles might have practiced his little speech but he wanted to do this right.

"Because you are the chicken nuggets?"

Under his palm, Stiles felt him smile.

"I am the chicken nuggets." Stiles couldn't help the proud grin.

Derek was quiet for a moment.

"I saved you as that," he finally said. "In my phone. You're Chicken Nuggets."

"You didn't." Stiles pushed him away, already half-way out of the bed. "Where's your phone?"

Derek held him back with ease and then he rolled over until he was lying on top of Stiles. His eyes were glowing red when he looked down on him.

"You said I can try whatever I want," Derek said with the hint of a growl in his voice.

"Yeah?" Stiles tried to sound cocky but the urge to bare his throat to his alpha was stronger.

"I want to try chicken nuggets." Derek nipped at his exposed throat.

"You already tried those," Stiles teased.

"Not often enough."


	61. Chapter 61

In the morning they left the only place Derek actually knew. He and Stiles in Stiles' jeep and Peter in his rental. They passed the welcome sign and a few miles later Derek couldn't make out anything familiar any longer.

Stiles was sitting right next to him, that made it better, kind of, but now Derek started to understand why Stiles wanted him to leave with Peter. Stiles seemed to know where he was going, he didn't even really watch the scenery passing by. He had the radio on loud and was singing along, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, and Derek couldn't help the feeling that he was in his element. Stiles had gotten restless the last few days and that had not only been because of the need to move that had intensified with him becoming a werewolf. He looked happy.

Derek, however, was looking at the endless road ahead of them, strange and unknown, and he could basically feel the growing distance to everything he knew.

"The world is big, isn't it?" Derek asked, not sure if he liked the idea. Stiles was right next to him, where he should be, and usually that was enough for Derek. The location had never mattered to him as long as Stiles was there but that was not a given any longer. Now he could get lost out there.

"You have no idea." Stiles gave him a broad grin.

Over the next few hours, Stiles told him about growing up in Beacon Hills and how Peter on a rampage had changed his life forever. About Scott and the pack. His voice became distant and a bit wistfully there. Derek reached over and put his hand on Stiles' thigh just to show him that he wasn't alone.

"You miss them."

"I haven't lost them," Stiles said as if he was trying to convince himself of that. "We can still be friends, we're just not pack any longer." He phrased it as if he was talking about the whole pack but Derek knew that this was about Scott.

They didn't push it and in the late afternoon, Derek called Peter to tell him that they were looking for a motel for the night.

Their room was different than what Derek knew from Edith's motel. The bed made more noises but he liked the shower better. Those were little things but they made Derek wonder what kind of different things were out there. And for the first time, he was looking forward to his trip with Peter. His beta hadn't told him what he had in mind and the smile that crept on his lips whenever that topic came up was kind of worrying but after this little taste of more, Derek actually wanted to see more.

The next day they reached Beacon Hills.

When they entered the town, Derek looked around with interest. This was Stiles' home. And Scott's territory so it couldn't hurt to stay alert. Derek was not here to cause trouble but he was an alpha in another alpha's territory. And that alpha didn't like him very much.

Stiles parked the jeep in a driveway right next to a cruiser with _Sheriff_ written on the side.

They didn't have time to get out of the car before the front door opened.

"Dad." Stiles was out of the car and a second later he was hugging the man who had stepped out of the door. Derek followed slower, not sure what to do now. Behind him Peter parked his car at the street, at least Derek wouldn't have to face Stiles' father alone.

After a long moment, the man let go of Stiles and was now looking directly at Derek. Derek fought the urge to lower his eyes and forced himself to meet that gaze.

"You must be Derek," Stiles' dad said and offered his hand. "I'm John, Stiles' dad."

"Derek Hale." Derek took the hand. This was some kind of test, he got that, but he didn't know what the other man was looking for. John let go of Derek's hand to greet Peter and then Derek followed Stiles deeper into the house.

"Melissa still at work?" Stiles asked.

"She should be here in a bit." John led them deeper into the house. "Scott wanted to be here as well but Melissa told him to wait until tomorrow."

Stiles groaned at that for which John gave him an unimpressed look.

They went through the kitchen and out the back door.

"Thought we could grill some burgers." John gestured over to the already smoking grill and the half set table, they must have interrupted him. "Heard you're craving meat these days." He put his arm around Stiles' shoulders and drew him close for a moment.

"Hope you got some salad as well, not everybody here is a werewolf," Stiles teased and it sounded like something familiar between them, worn in and cherished. Looking at father and son together was kind of strange.

Stiles helped his dad with the table, talking about the ride here, and Derek used the moment to just watch them.

"You don't have a father, do you?" Peter spoke up next to him. "I mean except for Stiles who's kind of your Frankenstein."

Derek didn't know that name but he shook his head that no, he didn't have a father.

Peter wanted to say more but he was cut off by Stiles who told Derek to get the burgers from the fridge.

A few minutes later, Peter was manning the grill and Derek had a bottle of beer in his hand and was sitting with Stiles and John at the table.

So far Stiles had done most of the talking. About Edith and Theo, his accident with the deer, how much the crutches had sucked and how everybody had been obsessed with a fish named Old Pete. And had he mentioned the crutches?

Stiles was talking too fast and too much and for the moment his dad let him. But judging by the way the man was glancing at Derek, he had another topic he wanted to talk about.

"Are the burgers ready yet?" A woman came out of the back door. "I'm starving." She smelled like hospital and she looked tired but a warm smile spread on her face when she noticed Stiles.

She greeted Stiles with a fierce hug, Peter got a wave and then she was standing in front of Derek.

"Melissa," Stiles stepped up next to Derek. "This is Derek, my alpha."

"So I heard." She looked him up and down with her arms crossed over her chest.

She was Scott's mother, Derek knew that. He didn't know how it felt to have a mother but if it was anything like what he was seeing with Stiles and his dad, she was on her son's side.

They were saved by Peter who announced that the first burgers were ready.

Derek knew dinner with Edith and Theo which had always been fun with laughter and easy chatter. This was nothing like that.

Derek kept his eyes on his burger, eating slowly, while next to him Stiles was already inhaling his second one. Across from them were John and Melissa and he could feel their eyes on him.

"Okay, Stiles." John put his burger down and used his napkin. "Spill, what happened? You never wanted to become a werewolf. And why the hell did you leave Scott's pack?"

"Derek needed me," Stiles said and finished off his burger.

"Stiles," Melissa said, sounding reasonable. "Think about what you're doing here. Leaving Scott's pack for …" She gestured at Derek.

"I thought about it and I made my decision." Stiles gave them a challenging look. "I don't know what Scott told you about Derek but he is a real person now and we're not going to talk about him as if he isn't right here."

Neither John nor Melissa seemed to know what to say to that and the following silence was more than uncomfortable. They finished their meal and had another beer and Stiles did his best to carry the conversation but Derek still felt their eyes on him. And the questions hanging in the air.

He wasn't sure if they blamed him for turning Stiles, for taking him away, and he wasn't sure if Stiles had told them about his magic yet.

Stiles went inside to help Melissa with the dishes and suddenly Derek was alone with John. Where Peter had disappeared to, he had no idea.

"What do you want from Stiles?" John asked without beating around the bush.

"I don't want anything."

"He never wanted to become a werewolf," John reminded him. "And then you come along and suddenly my son is a werewolf. But not safe with his pack and Scott, he's with you. That's one hell of a change of mind."

"I didn't force him," Derek felt the need to say. "I didn't bite him against his will."

The look John was giving him was hard as if he wasn't believing him. Derek didn't know what else to say.

"I don't know you," John said. "And apparently there is nothing to know about you. No family, no childhood, nothing. I'm not even convinced you are what Stiles says you are."

"I am what your son made me." Derek looked him in the eye. Stiles might argue with that statement, Derek was more than what Stiles had come up with, he had emphasized that a few times, but Stiles wasn't here to argue right now.

John didn't seem satisfied but he left it at that.

Eventually, Peter came to his rescue, asking about the things John had picked up for them from the Hale House. Peter and Stiles had usually spent their time in Beacon Hills at the pack house where they both had rooms of their own but those were gone now. Stiles didn't even want to go to the house for a visit, not this shortly after everything.

"I even got the pictures of your family from the library," John answered and after one last look at Derek, he fully turned to Peter. "I didn't know if you want them, I can put them back."

Peter talked to John about renting a storage place, he didn't want to impose on John and Melissa more than necessary, effectively guiding John away from Derek.

It led to questions about their plans for the future and Peter told him that they were looking into buying a house in that town they had stayed in the last week.

"Lovely people," Peter said. "And there is a Nemeton, somebody should be around just in case. But first Derek and I want to make a little trip, he needs to see more of the world, I'm thinking South America." Peter chatted easily with John and Derek wondered when Peter had gotten on board with the idea of claiming that territory for themselves. So far it had just been a thought Stiles had put out there the other day.

But Derek liked the idea. He would like to see Edith and Theo again. Maybe getting to know the other people around there. Jane had been nice to him and for some reason, he liked to hear Dough taking about that fish he was chasing. Yeah, Derek liked that idea.

"What are you smiling about?" Stiles had come up behind him.

He and Melissa had been gone for a while and Derek had no doubt that Melissa had a talk with Stiles as well.

Instead of an answer, Derek put his arm over Stiles' shoulder and drew him close. Stiles melted into his side for a moment before he put some distance between them. His parents were watching and Derek got that showing too much affection in front of them made Stiles uncomfortable.

Since they didn't have a place at the Hale house any longer they had agreed that Stiles would stay at his parent's place and Peter and Derek would get a hotel room for the night. Derek didn't like the idea of leaving Stiles alone but Stiles told him to not worry.

"Take it as some kind of practice run," Stiles said. "If you and Peter manage to not kill each other over the night, you're ready for a road trip with him."

That was only partly the reason why Stiles wanted to stay with his parents, though. Derek got that Stiles wanted some time alone with them. They needed to talk in private without him hovering in the background. He got that. Didn't mean he liked it.

When it was time to leave, Derek kissed Stiles goodbye and for once Stiles seemed to think _fuck it_ and deepened the kiss right in front of his parents. They only parted when Peter pointedly cleared his throat.

And then he was in the car with Peter, leaving Stiles behind. It was only overnight and not for months but it still felt wrong.

"He will always be there, you know that, right?" Peter must have caught some of his feelings. "Stiles never learned to let go."

"Me neither."


	62. Chapter 62

If it had been up to Peter, he wouldn't have come back to Beacon Hills. Not this soon. But Stiles needed some kind of closure so here he was. With Derek.

They were at a hotel and originally Peter had wanted to get two rooms but one look at Derek and he had opted for one with two beds. Might get used to it early on. It brought back memories of being on the road with Stiles, though. They had shared a room most nights. Peter just hoped that Derek wasn't such a restless sleeper as Stiles. After the Nogitsune, Stiles and sleep had not been on speaking terms.

It had been a long day and it was late so they got ready for the night right away. Peter even felt generous and offered Derek the first shower. While he was in there, Derek's phone rang with a new message. There weren't many people who even had Derek's number so when Peter glanced at the caller ID, he expected to see Stiles' name on the display. Instead, it said Chicken Nuggets. Which most likely was Stiles.

"You have a message from Chicken Nugget," Peter informed him when Derek came out of the bathroom in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. "Do I want to know why you call him Chicken Nuggets?"

Derek didn't answer and checked his phone instead.

"He says that Scott just came over," Derek said, already eyeing the door as if he wanted to come to Stiles' rescue immediately.

"That's one of the reasons we're here and not with him," Peter reminded him. "They have to talk it out."

He didn't know how much about Scott and Stiles Derek knew, if he was even able to grasp the concept of a sandbox friendship that had lasted through hell and high water. "He's going to be fine."

If he was honest, Peter was glad that they had only stayed for dinner. Nobody had cornered him but he had seen John roasting Derek and he had heard Melissa and Stiles talking in the kitchen. Neither conversation had been a pleasant one and he had no doubt that there were now three people talking to Stiles, maybe even trying to convince him to stay in Beacon Hills, to become part of Scott's pack again.

"Why do you call him Chicken Nuggets?" Peter asked again while he kicked off his shoes. He would get ready for bed in a minute, right now he had to keep Derek from running to Stiles. So distraction it was.

Derek threw him a glance but then he did stretch out on his bed and got comfortable with his back propped up against the headboard.

Then he told Peter the sickening sweet story of how Stiles had convinced Derek that separation was a good thing for them. Peter had to agree that Stiles had a thing for metaphors but he also had a thing for carrying them on for way too long. So Stiles was Derek's chicken nuggets and it was Peter's job to make sure that Derek broadened his menu in more way than one in hope that after that Derek still liked chicken nuggets best. That thought alone was so Stiles, it made Peter smile.

Once he was convinced that Derek wouldn't run the second Peter was in the shower, he slipped into the bathroom and not much later they were lying in the dark, ready to fall asleep.

The day on the road had been tiring and Peter felt satisfied and lazy after at least one burger too many but he was too wired for sleep to come. They hadn't really talked about how long they wanted to stay in Beacon Hills, a few days at most and after that, they would separate. At least Peter would have his alpha with him and he was kind of looking forward to showing Derek the world but they would leave Stiles behind.

Stiles would stay back, still a new werewolf, a beta with his alpha too far away. There would be long phone calls, Peter was sure of that, but he didn't know if that would be enough. Plus, he was pretty sure that Stiles intended to keep on working. Over the last few days he had somewhat grown into his new body and abilities but he was still relying on magic that wasn't there any longer way too often. That was something that could get him killed way too easily.

"I don't like it," Derek broke the silence.

"Me neither." Peter let out a breath. He wasn't sure if Derek was talking about their situation in general or Stiles in particular but it didn't matter, either way, Peter didn't like it.

Just to keep them from thinking too much, Peter came up to a sitting position and reached for the lamp on the nightstand.

"Want to watch some TV?" He asked. Usually, he wasn't one for channel surfing but tonight it felt right.

Derek agreed and Peter started to switch through the channels. They ended on a re-run of _I Dream of Jeannie._ Peter almost laughed at the irony which was completely lost on Derek which made it even more hilarious.

Sleep caught up with Derek eventually. He had tried to keep his eyes open like an overtired toddler but now he was sleeping with his back still against the headboard and his chin resting on his chest. Peter turned off the TV and for a long moment, he was just watching the other man.

It was kind of a weird feeling, sharing the room with somebody who hadn't been a real person just a week ago and a part of him was screaming to be wary, to not trust, but another part was looking at the flattened patch of hair where Derek had been leaning against the headboard with his still damp hair and Peter couldn't help the soft feeling blooming in his chest.

This Derek was not the one who had died in the fire years ago and even if they were working on giving his identity to this new Derek, the man in the other bed was not trying to replace what Peter had lost. Peter might never admit it but when it came to family he could be as vicious as Stiles was and that was what he was feeling now. Family. The man in the other bed was not just his alpha, not just pack, he was family.

For a moment Peter sat there in stunned silence, he had not seen that revelation coming but in hindsight, he wondered why he was so surprised by this.

"You're going to get a stiff neck like this," Peter said softly. Derek didn't stir but Peter hadn't tried to wake him. After another second Peter got out of his bed and then he gently pushed Derek until he rolled to his side. It was still not a good position to sleep in but with some probing from Peter Derek did sort himself out without waking up.

"There you go." Peter drew the blanket up to his chin and on a whim he got his phone and snapped a photo.

 _Tucked in your boyfriend_ , he titled it and sent it to Stiles.

 _Did you give him a goodnight kiss?_ came Stiles' prompt answer.

 _I left that for you_

 _How are things?_ Peter added after a second.

 _Good_

 _Dad still doesn't trust Derek but he wants me to be happy_

 _Melissa is not an easy case but we're good_

 _Scott ... Scott is Scott_

So they weren't back to being BFF just yet. Peter was not surprised but he knew that Stiles had hoped everything would sort itself out.

 _We are invited to dinner at the house tomorrow. The pack wants to say goodbye_

It hardly counted as a goodbye, Stiles and Peter were just not pack any longer. They could still be friends and with Stiles' parents living here, at least he would come by from time to time. Peter not so often, he was not one for happy reunions but Beacon Hills had been Hale territory for centuries, of course he would keep an eye on it. And if Scott screwed up he would be there to call him out on his bullshit.

Peter switched off the light and crawled under the covers.

Derek was up before him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, already fully dressed and typing on his phone. Peter didn't even have to ask who he was chatting with.

"I'll get dressed and then breakfast?" Peter suggested. He needed coffee. Derek didn't even look up from his phone but he nodded so Peter hoped he had heard what he'd said.

After breakfast, and after a good dose of caffeine, Peter felt ready to face the day.

They picked up Stiles who wanted to use the day to go shopping. Derek had some essentials but he didn't really own anything aside from his clothes and those weren't plenty to begin with. Peter didn't have plans of his own so he tagged along, he might replace some stuff as well. Traveling light had its advantages but living out of a bag also meant no spare anything.

Apparently, Derek needed a lot of stuff. He hadn't bothered to shave but his beard was getting kind of long so Stiles bought him a razor. And shampoo and body wash. More clothes and another jacket. A laptop. When they came across a book store Derek kept glancing at it with interest which Stiles noticed and then they spent an hour in there. Peter was set on books so he excused himself to get more stuff for himself, they would meet up at the car later.

"Now we actually need that storage room," Peter commented when he came back to the car two hours later.

"I don't want to hog dad's garage for longer than necessary anyway." Stiles shrugged. "I had no idea I had so much stuff over at the house. And you. Why do you own so many books?"

Peter had gifted a well-stocked library to the pack along with house but he liked to keep a copy of the most important books. Not that Stiles was that much different. He had half a library in his car alone and twice as much at the house. And he had kept most of his herbs and ingredients in his room. Those were sitting in John's garage now as well.

So they didn't waste time and rented something right away. Peter arranged the payment but Stiles insisted that all three of them were put down as key-holders and where allowed to access the storage. Then they spent most of the afternoon with bringing over their stuff.

"You don't have to do this right away." Melissa tried to slow them down with kind of a guilty look on her face. Peter wondered how hard she had been laying into Stiles last night. Of course, Stiles hadn't gone into details about what had happened after Peter and Derek had left but he got that the debate had become heated rather quickly.

"It's fine," Stiles assured her. "I'm not sure when one of us will be back here and I want this out of the way."

She didn't look happy but there wasn't much she could say against it.

"And you really want to take jobs? Alone?" That seemed to be something they had talked about before.

"Only if something comes up," Stiles assured her. "Peter and Derek won't be gone forever, we'll have to figure things out from there. But hey, I'm a werewolf now, those are pretty hard to kill." He beamed at her as if that made it any better. Which it didn't. Stiles had killed werewolves before. While he had been just a mere human. But Peter didn't point that out. Instead, he got the last box of books and put it in the car. There was no need for all of them to make that last trip so Peter offered to do it and left Derek and Stiles with Melissa. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea but Derek seemed reluctant to leave Stiles out of his sight and if Peter was honest, a few minutes alone did sound like a good idea to him.

They went to see the pack in the evening but it went as well as expected. They were all wary of Derek and almost everybody found a way to take Stiles aside to talk to him, asking him if he was sure, if this was what he wanted.

The only one asking Peter those questions was Malia but at least she accepted his decision without too many questions.

Of course, Derek was the center of attention. Nobody was outright hostile, not even Scott, but nobody was really friendly either. Derek was the intruder and with what Scott had told his pack about the former shade, they did not like him.

Isaac was the only one who kept his distance. He was lingering in the background, watching. On a whim, Peter walked over to him.

"Derek and I are going on a trip soon." Peter leaned against the wall next to him, their shoulders almost touching. "But after that, we're thinking about taking over the territory around the Nemeton there."

"Why are you telling me this?" Isaac asked.

"Just in case." If he was honest, Peter didn't really know what he wanted to accomplish here. Isaac had been the first he'd offered the bite, maybe he was getting sentimental.

It came as a relief when Stiles' phone rang.


	63. Chapter 63

Stiles had planned to stay in Beacon Hills for a few days. But he had been lucky to have not gotten a call in a while. And of course, his phone rang now. Stiles stepped outside to take the call and when he came back in twenty minutes later, everybody was looking at him. Everybody, except for Derek who was just looking at him because he was always looking at him, knew what a call like this meant.

"Sorry, I have to leave. I'll stay in touch," Stiles promised. He meant the whole pack but he was locking eyes with Scott when he said it. The small nod he got in return gave him hope that they could fix this.

They had come in one car so Peter and Derek left with him.

"Are you going to leave?" Derek asked when they were in the car. Peter was behind the wheel so Stiles had time to look up directions on his phone. He was looking at an almost two days ride, awesome. With a groan, he put his phone down.

"This is about a job," Stiles explained. "Somebody has a problem." He twisted in his seat to look at Derek in the backseat. "I didn't want for this to happen this abruptly but I have to go. There are werewolves going missing and I need to help that pack."

"You sure you want to do this alone?" Peter spoke up. "We can come with you, just for this job, and we'll do the separation thing after that."

"No." Stiles shook his head. It was hard enough as it was. "When we start with that we'll never come around to actually do it. And it has to be done. At least for a little while."

At least Peter didn't point out that Stiles was now a werewolf himself and working a job without his magic would be different and more dangerous. That was the reason Stiles liked Peter, he didn't waste his breath to stop Stiles from doing what he would do anyway.

Peter drove them to Stiles' place where Stiles had his car and his things. He hadn't really unpacked, just the clothes that needed washing and they were already back in his bag. He had never intended to stay for long.

"Time to say goodbye," Stiles told Derek. They were standing in the driveway, with their arms around each other and little space between them. It was cliche but perfect for kissing so Stiles did just that. Derek kissed him back, hungry and desperate.

"I don't want you to leave," Derek said.

"It won't be for long," Stiles promised. "A few months. And we can talk on the phone whenever you want."

"And whenever you want," Derek added. They had stopped kissing and now their foreheads were touching. Stiles wanted to stay like this forever but there were werewolves going missing and he still had to drive for two days to even get there.

"If you still think chicken nuggets are the best, I'll be waiting for you," Stiles told him in a low voice. He was pretty sure that Peter could hear him and for a second he wondered what the other man thought about that statement but he found that he didn't really care.

After that, everything happened quickly. Derek and Peter drove off, back to their hotel, and Stiles stood in the driveway until they disappeared around a corner. Then he hurried inside to get his bag and to say goodbye to his dad. Melissa was at work but John had the evening off.

His dad gave him a hug and made him promise to call now and then and then Stiles was on the road again.

Stiles had gotten quite used to having Derek around, it felt weird being alone in the car. The real problem, however, occurred when he checked into a motel for the night. He still got a room with two beds, old habits and all that, and then he as lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He kept glancing at the other bed which stayed empty and untouched.

His bed wasn't big, just wide enough for one person, but it still felt too empty. Stiles couldn't remember the last time he had slept alone. Even last night when he'd slept in his childhood room he hadn't been alone, not really. He had heard his dad and Melissa in the house. They had kept talking long after he had gone to bed. He hadn't been able to make out the words but their voices had lulled him to sleep.

But now he was truly alone. There were other people in the motel, Stiles heard them through the thin walls, but that wasn't the same.

Usually, he would summon a shade to watch over him while he fell asleep but for one he couldn't work magic any longer and second he doubted he would have every summoned a shade that wasn't Derek ever again. Even if what had happened with Derek had been a one in a million thing and wouldn't happen again, it would feel like cheating if Stiles summoned another shade.

Stiles didn't sleep that night. The next morning he dosed up on coffee and then he spent most of the day in the car. He was tired and cranky when he reached his destination but people were relying on him so he put on his most friendly face and went to introduce himself to the local pack.

Judging by the description he had gotten over the phone there was something supernatural going on, maybe something along the lines what he had seen with Ben who had dabbled with things he shouldn't have dabbled with. But after two days of searching the area and asking questions, he found that it was a group of hunters, taking down the pack one by one. The reason the pack hadn't caught on sooner was that they were able to work some magic on a basic level, enough to cover their tracks.

Stiles might not be able to work magic any longer but he knew magic. And he recognizes the disturbances in the natural fields. He still was more in tune with the lines and pattern of energy and with that advantage, it was almost too easy for him to find the hunters. They had rented a hunting cabin, of course they had, and they were storing the dead werewolves in the shed at the side, making this look like disappearances rather than murders.

Stiles was watching them from afar and when one of them opened the door of the shed he almost vomited at the smell of burned flesh coming his way. Every fiber of his being wanted to run over there and slash them to pieces. It would be suicide, he knew that, but he felt his gums itch with the need to drop fangs and he was pretty sure that his eyes were glowing so he hurried to lower his gaze to not give himself away.

It took a long moment but in the end, he managed to regain control of his instincts. Thinking of Derek helped, he wondered where he was now. They had been on the phone this morning and he and Peter had been heading East.

Stiles opened his eyes, a plan forming in his mind. All disappearances had happened at night and the hunters had never shown up in town over the day so it was only logical that they would stay in the cabin for now. Stiles kept watch and sure enough, he could make out several people in the cabin but it didn't look as if they were going anywhere any time soon.

Satisfied Stiles backed off and then he called 911, he had some murders to report.

He stuck around just in case the police did a lousy job and one of the hunters escaped. The hunters tried to shoot their way out, one was gunned down, the others surrendered eventually. There were no casualties on the side of the police.

Stiles went back to report to the alpha. Three werewolves were dead, they had been taken even before Stiles had arrived, but at least they had been found and the killers would most likely rot in prison.

Stiles declined the offer to stay with the pack, they had just lost three pack members and he really didn't want to disturb them in their grief. Stiles didn't even stay in their territory. He got in the car and just drove off in a random direction. He had only caught a glimpse of what had been in that shed, those werewolves had not died quickly, but the smell alone was etched into his brain. He drove for an hour or two and then he parked on an empty stretch of the road. He was just fast enough to get out of the car before he lost his lunch. When he was done, Stiles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then he stood there with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Without even thinking he reached for his phone.

"Stiles?" Derek answered after the second ring. "Everything okay?"

They had already come to some kind of routine, normally Stiles called him right before he went to bed, this was unusual at least.

"Finished the job," Stiles told him. "It wasn't pretty."

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Stiles shook his head. "I just can't get that sight out of my head." And that smell was still lingering in the back of his throat.

"We're heading South now," Derek told him.

For the next hour, Stiles listened to him talking about the things he was seeing, how their motel for the night had been, awful, there had been rats in the walls, and what kind of food he had tried.

"I still like chicken nuggets best," Derek finished and even over the phone Stiles could hear his smile.

"Thanks, I think I'm fine now." Stiles had stopped shaking a while ago and by now he thought he could get back in the car and drive for a bit before he would stop for the night. "Say hi to Peter from me."

Stiles drove for another two hours before he called it quits and started looking for a place for the night. He half-expected to find something similar to Edith's motel. But the small town he ended up in was way more populated and there wasn't a Nemeton drawing him in. The motel was more modern, almost stylish, and Stiles already hated the decent decor.

He ordered pizza, meat lover with extra meat and extra cheese, and then he was sitting on the bed he wouldn't sleep in and was munching on his pizza. At least he had found his appetite again. The TV was running but more to deliver some background noise and when Stiles had finished his pizza he was eyeing the other bed. He hadn't slept much since he had parted with Derek and Peter and he was dead tired but he just knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep. So he put his shoes back on and went out.

He found a bar not far from the motel. A drink or two might help him to sleep, he decided and ignored the little voice in the back of his head which sounded suspiciously like his dad's, telling him that that was how alcoholism started. The man knew what he was talking about, Stiles had to give the voice that, but he entered the bar nevertheless. Just for tonight, just to take off the edge and to stop thinking for a while. He wouldn't make it a habit and as a werewolf, he doubted that he could get drunk anyway.

The bar was full but not packed and Stiles found a spot a the bar easy enough. He ordered his drink but then he was more clinging to the glass than actually drinking from it. Just a sip here and there to not look completely out of place.

"Hey." Somebody sat down on the stool next to him. "You don't seem to like what you're having, can I order you something else?"

Stiles glanced over to the young man next to him. They were about the same age, his hair was dark, his eyes blue and he was giving Stiles an easy smile.

"Sure," Stiles said. "Pick something for me, I seem to suck at making decisions like that." He downed the rest of his drink with a grimace.

Two drinks later they were chatting like old friends. Jim, who the hell named their child Jim, was witty and he was laughing at Stiles' jokes.

"Mom is a Trekkie," Jim explained his name when Stiles pointed it out to him. "Had a crush on a certain captain." Jim winked at him. "Dad only found out why she'd picked that name years later."

That made Stiles laugh.

It was clear where this was heading. Stiles thought about his empty motel room and that he wouldn't be able to sleep if there wasn't somebody else there. And he had told Derek that they weren't in a relationship, he had given him permission to have sex with other people. He could do the same, right?

In the end, Stiles thanked Jim for the nice evening but went back to his motel alone. He kept the TV running all night, it wasn't the same and usually not enough but tired as he was, it brought him through the night.


	64. Chapter 64

Five months later Stiles pulled into a familiar parking lot. Through the window of the office, he could see Edith behind the counter. She hadn't spotted him yet but her face lit up when he entered the office.

"Stiles." She actually remembered his name, he hadn't been sure if she would really recognize him but their stay had been kind of memorable. "Good to see you again."

She came around the counter and a moment later she had him in a tight embrace. He hugged her back, it had been a while since Stiles had gotten an honest hug. He hadn't been back to Beacon Hills over the last few months but he and his dad were talking on the phone regularly and it looked as if the people back home had gotten used to the fact that he wasn't part of the local pack any longer.

He had even spoken to Scott a few times and things were better on that front as well. Not good but they were getting there. Stiles was basically waiting for the next clusterfuck when Scott would call him for help. Because that was what Stiles was doing, right? Helping packs in need.

"Where's Derek?" Edith let go of him to peek out of the window in search for the other man.

"He and Peter will be here in a bit," Stiles told her. They had a longer drive than him but Stiles didn't mind. He had waited five months to see Derek again, he could wait a little while longer. Maybe.

"So a double for you?" Edith winked at him and hurried back behind the counter to get him a key.

"Yes," Stiles agreed. He had been worried if Derek actually wanted him as more than his beta, he had more than enough time to find other people he was more interested in. Or he could have just lost interest in Stiles. When Stiles had tried to hint that they didn't have to sleep in one bed if Derek didn't want to, Derek had told him to shut up and that chicken nuggets were still the best thing in the world. So a double it was.

Since he was in no hurry and Edith had nothing else to do, Stiles took the chair she offered and kept her company for a while.

"Anything interesting happened while I was gone?" Stiles asked. At least from a supernatural angle, the town was as sleepy as always, he could tell. His senses weren't as sharp as they used to be, at least not those senses, but he still felt the thrumming of the Nemeton when he opened his mind.

"Nothing really." Edith fixed them cups of coffee and she still kept a box with cookies in a drawer. Stiles accepted both happily. "What about you? What brings you back here?"

"We're thinking about staying for a while." Stiles nibbled at his cookie. "Maybe renting or even buying a house."

"Did we leave that much of an impression?" Edith asked but she couldn't hide how flattered she was. Stiles doubted that many people were moving here, quite the opposite. Edith's own children had left to live in the big city. This was a sleepy town but Stiles doubted it was dying. Not with the Nemeton here.

"We are looking for a place to settle down." Stiles shrugged. It would be more of a home base, neither Stiles nor Peter were cut for a quiet life, they both got restless when they stayed at one place for too long but it would be nice to have a place to come home to.

However, Stiles could picture Derek living a quiet life. Helping old ladies with the groceries and getting paid with home-made pie. He just hoped that Derek would have the time to enjoy such a simple life. With a pack around, even with such a small one as theirs, Stiles had no doubt that the supernatural activity would spike around here. It was kind of a miracle that the Nemeton hadn't drawn in others. But maybe it had already picked the ones it wanted to have around. One never knew with these trees.

"There is not much around here," Edith said, stirring sugar into her cup. "Work-wise I mean." She put the spoon aside with a little laugh. "I don't even know what you do for a living. Or Derek for that matter."

"I'm kind of a problem solver," Stiles offered. "I travel a lot."

Derek didn't have a job but it might be worth looking into that. Not that Stiles had any idea what kind of job Derek would even like to try out. Not that he would have to work. By now he was officially Derek Hale and had inherited his share of the Hale estate. Stiles didn't know how Scott had caught wind of that but it had put another strain on their relationship. As if Derek had been after Peter's money all along.

Stiles skirted the question of Derek's profession by asking about available houses around town. Which there were plenty of, he found out.

Over the next two hours, Edith told him in detail who had lived where and why they weren't living there any longer. Some had moved away, some had died, children didn't care about the houses of their parents, Stiles heard a lot of gossip and he filed everything away for future use. One could never know enough about the neighbors.

Then, finally, a familiar car pulled into the parking lot.

"They're here." Stiles jumped to his feet and was out of the door a second later. Then he was standing next to the car, bouncing on the balls of his feet, while Peter parked.

Eventually, the passenger side door opened and Derek stepped out.

He looked different. Stiles couldn't quite put his finger on it but the way he was holding himself, the easy smile on his face and the sunglasses hanging from his v-neck, it was different. In a good way. Derek had been around Peter for too long, Stiles decided but he couldn't help but stare at the v-neck. He wanted to bite Derek's collar bone.

"Stop drooling." Peter had gotten out of the car as well.

"I'm not ..." Stiles had to tear his eyes off Derek to glare at Peter who just gave him a smug smile.

Stiles didn't know what the plan for the rest of the day had been, maybe going over to Jane's diner and discuss their next steps over a burger, but it looked like Derek had other plans.

While Stiles' attention had been on Peter, Derek had stepped over to him and then his nose tickled along the line of Stiles' neck. They hadn't seen each other in person in months so Stiles bared his neck for Derek to scent him. And if he was doing the same with Derek's neck, sue him, he hadn't seen his alpha in way too long, they needed to reconnect.

"Get a room," Peter told them but he sounded more amused than annoyed.

"Already got one," Stiles countered and took another deep breath. He and Derek had spoken on the phone daily, and Stiles might have recorded some of their conversations to play in a loop to help him to get some sleep. It worked so Stiles didn't question it too much.

"Which one?" Derek perked up at that and was already dragging Stiles over to the row of rooms.

"What do you think?" Stiles had gotten the same room they had stayed in last time. There was only one other guest here at the moment and she wanted to leave in the morning. Why Edith kept the motel open was beyond Stiles but at the moment he was just glad that they had a room.

They left Peter standing in the parking lot but Stiles didn't even feel a little bit guilty about that. The scenting had turned into Derek nipping at his neck in the attempt to mark him. With Stiles being a werewolf now that was a futile attempt but Derek got points for trying.

"I need to get my bag." Stiles tried to peel himself out of Derek's arms who really didn't want to let him go.

"We won't have lube otherwise," Stiles told him but still Derek drew him back in every time he tried to get away for a moment. "I won't let you fuck me without lube. Which is in my bag. Which is in my car right over there." He tried to nod in that direction which Derek used to suck at his Adam's apple.

"Derek," Stiles whined.

"Should I get the lube for you so you can get along with the program?" Peter asked. He was having way too much fun with this.

The second Derek let him go, Stiles sprinted over to his jeep and yanked his bag out. In their room, he dropped it on the floor and dug out the lube. He had put it on top for easy access but he still had to rummage through his clothes to actually find it. Derek getting naked just a few feet from him was not helping to find the bottle quicker.

Stiles had thought about their reunion. A lot. The times he hadn't been doubting that Derek still wanted him this way and not only as a beta Stiles had thought about all the ways they would screw each other's brains out. He might have jerked off to those thoughts.

However, not once had he thought that he would finally find the bottle of lube, come up with a _yesss_ and then face-plant on the floor because his foot got caught in the handle of his bag. Derek was standing on one leg while he got out of his jeans but he still tried to catch Stiles which ended with both of them on the floor in a tangle of limbs. And Stiles lost the bottle somewhere in the middle of that, it might be under the bed now.

Stiles let out a frustrated groan.

Derek didn't let him get up again and peeled him out of his clothes right there on the floor.

"The bed would be more comfortable," Stiles said but didn't even try to get to said bed. Derek hmmed to that but he was too busy attacking his throat again and simultaneously trying to get him out of his jeans to do anything to get them off the floor.

They did get to the fucking part of the day eventually. Derek fucked him right there, taking him from behind with Stiles on his knees and his upper body on the bed, at least part of him had made it to the bed. And Derek had used the lube. Even if Stiles had no idea when Derek had gotten that back from under the bed.

It was fast and dirty and Stiles would get a serious case of carpet burn in the morning if it weren't for his healing that immediately took care of that. It was kind of sad actually.

"I like it when you leave your mark on me," Stiles managed to say but mostly he was just hanging in for the ride. God, had he missed this.

"You like that?" Derek asked and a second later he bit down on Stiles' neck, right where he had bitten him to turn him.

Stiles came with a cry.

Derek kept thrusting, hitting his sweet spot dead on, until Stiles just collapsed on the bed. Or leaning against it to be correct.

Derek pulled out and a second later Stiles felt the hot jets of his come hitting his back.

"Did you ...?" He asked once his brain had comprehended what Derek had just done but he was cut off when Derek spread his come over Stiles' back.

"Now you're marked," Derek said, sounding way too satisfied.

They did make it onto the bed eventually and once they were there, they didn't leave it for hours.

Stiles had lost count of how often he'd come, werewolf stamina was awesome, but he was sticky head to toe with Derek's come. And his own. At least that stayed. All the hickeys and bite marks Derek was putting on him faded away way too quickly but their mixed semen stayed. Stiles would smell like them for days.

Stiles didn't know what time it was, late, most likely close to morning, when they stretched out next to each other, catching their breath. Derek couldn't keep his hands off him and was painting lazy patterns on Stiles' chest with the tip of a finger, or he was connecting the dots, Stiles couldn't tell but he was too tired to care.

"You're still my chicken nuggets," Derek broke the silence. "Can I have you?"

"You always have me," Stiles assured him. "For as long as you want."

"Is forever okay?"

"Forever sounds good." Stiles made the afford to raise his head, this had to be sealed with a kiss, but once that was done, he dropped back into his pillow. He fell asleep in Derek's arms.

* * *

 **A/N** _That's all folks. I'm happy you enjoyed this ride with me, thank you._

 _I am toying with the idea of a sequel, I love this little town and these people too much to just let them go, but not right away._

 _First I have to finish_ "Home is where the Heart is. Mine is six Feet under" _and then there is this little plot bunny nagging me:_

 _Working Title:_ Bodies of Water (and the other kind of bodies)

 _Summary:_ Peter meets Stiles when he tries to dispose a body in Stiles' lake (well, technically it's Derek's lake but semantics)


End file.
